


Silent Treatment

by ThePeachyMonkey



Category: NCIS
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Brainwashing, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dehumanization, Developing Relationship, Diapers, Eventual Romance, Hurt Tony DiNozzo, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, M/M, Major Character Injury, Muteness, Non-Sexual Age Play, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 85,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeachyMonkey/pseuds/ThePeachyMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs has betrayed Tony's trust, and now risks losing his Senior Field Agent. But when Tony is kidnapped, he realizes there is so much more at stake. After Tony's rescue, Gibbs wants desperately to help him recover from the trauma. But first, Tony needs to start talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to nightchild78 for her encouragement and support. I've never written anything quite as dark as this before, but she has given me the confidence to move forward with the story.
> 
> I would also like to thank rose_malmaison for providing the lovely artwork for this story.

 

Tony's eyes popped open, his rapid, erratic breath battling to calm his trembling body.  
  
The nightmares began 6 days ago. Images vividly painted in memory; the very thought of them enough to make Tony physically ill.  
  
There were some cases that had stayed with Tony over the years. The cases that both strengthened his resolve to serve and protect, and made him wonder why he even bothered.  
  
The murder of 14 year old Alisa Wyatt was one of those cases.  
  
The image of her body stuffed into the freezer in the back of a shed belonging to 30 year old Paul Ellsworth remained etched in Tony's mind. He would forever be haunted by Derek and Marley Wyatt's primal cries of loss upon learning that their daughter would never be coming home.  
  
So many lives destroyed by that monster. Not only had the Wyatts lost their only child, Paul's half sister Jennifer had also lost her best friend; murdered by the half brother who was also legal guardian to Jennifer and her 12 year old brother Mark, ever since their parents were killed in a car crash three years earlier. So what remained of the Ellsworth family was also torn apart. Having no other living relatives to go to, Jennifer and Mark were put in the foster system. And though efforts were made to keep them together, it didn't work out as they'd hoped. Eventually, the siblings ended up separated.  
  
It was the first homicide Tony ever worked and, though he'd seen many dead bodies in the years since, it was still among the most disturbing in memory. His mind often turned to the Wyatts, knowing they could never recover from the pain of losing their daughter, but hoping they had found some kind of peace.  
  
He also worried for the Ellsworth children. Especially Jennifer. Was she ever able to move on from the trauma of losing her closest friend at the hands of her very own flesh and blood?  
  
That was probably the hardest part of the job to accept. Tony could help bring killers to justice, but he couldn't take away the pain and suffering left in the aftermath of the murders.  
  
Pulling back the covers, Tony sat at the edge of his bed, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. _"There's no way I'll be able to fall back to sleep now,"_ he thought. _"Might as well head into the office to catch up on paperwork."_  
  
His mind made up, Tony stood and shuffled groggily into the bathroom. Perhaps a hot shower would calm his frazzled nerves.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Gibbs glanced over at Ziva as she quietly worked. She'd been focused and diligent ever since the team had rescued her from Africa, and Gibbs couldn't help but think it was mostly a convenient distraction from the hurt at being left behind, and the sadness and loss at her father's betrayal. But he didn't dare bring it up to her. He wasn't much for words, and certainly not one for talking things out. He knew that Ziva was the same, and he respected that she would need to deal with her feelings in her own time, and her own way.  
  
Knowing all this, he was surprised to see the Israeli stand up and tentatively approach his desk.  
  
"Gibbs, I...well, these last several months have not been easy for me. For a long time, I was very angry; with my father, with you..." She looked down at her hands, shame just barely visible on her face. "In Israel, when I forced you to choose between Tony and myself, that...that was not fair to you."  
Wiping away a stray tear from her eyes, she laughed awkwardly, as if to betray a sob. "I did not expect you to come and find me after that."  
  
Setting down his pen, Gibbs finally looked up at Ziva. "It wasn't the same without you here. The whole team really fought to get you back. Even DiNozzo."  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't have."  
  
Gibbs and Ziva turned to see Tony standing by his desk, anger, hurt and betrayal clearly written on his face.  
  
"She asked you to choose?" Tony asked in shocked disbelief.  
  
Gibbs nodded. "In Israel. Before we got on the plane back home." There was so much more that Gibbs wanted to say; explanations that would sound more like excuses. Apologies he was too proud to make.  
  
"And you didn't think to tell me that before I went to Africa and let myself be tortured so we could bring her back?! Because I think that's kind of an important detail!"  
  
"Tony. Calm down. You're making a fool of yourself," Gibbs said sternly.  
  
"No," Tony said darkly, shaking his head. "You made a fool of me, by keeping me in the dark. All this time, I've been working alongside someone who doesn't respect me, like me, or even want me around." He gave a joyless, bitter laugh. "Maybe it's my fault. I let her get away with treating me like a doormat for far too long. When I think back on the way she's treated me over the years...the way she treated me before we left her in Israel...You should have told me..."  
  
Tony's voice shifted back and forth between angry indignation and sad betrayal, cracking with heartbreak.  
  
"Tony - " Ziva began, taking a step forward.  
  
"Don't," Tony warned, holding up his hand. Sickened by the sight of the ones who so casually disregarded his feelings, he turned around, walking towards the elevator as briskly as he could manage , while still maintaining a shred of dignity.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Tony took a long, slow drink of bourbon, convinced he must be some kind of masochist. Choosing one of the drinks he most strongly associated with Gibbs might not be the best way to forget him.  
  
The truth was, for a good part of Tony's life, most things felt temporary. There was no real stability, security or trust. People came and went, promises were broken. Hell, his own father couldn't even be bothered to parent him.  
  
The only thing that felt real in Tony's life was work. More specifically, it was Gibbs. Sure, he was critical, demanding and sometimes mildly violent. But Tony always suspected that Gibbs pushed him so hard because he knew what he was capable of. He believed in him. And Tony was certain that Gibbs would always have his six.  
  
But now, Tony didn't know what to believe. Everything that felt certain and true in his life was now being called into question.  
  
Taking another sip, Tony felt himself slowly becoming numb, despite his very Gibbs-like choice of drink. Just as he was finally starting to make himself comfortable in his bubble of isolated intoxication, a man in his early 20s, who barely looked of legal drinking age, took a seat next to him at the bar and ordered a beer. He was tall, with an athletic build, dark brown hair and startling blue eyes.  
  
"Looks like you could use a friend," the man said casually, looking Tony up and down.  
  
Tony laughed bitterly, already intoxicated enough to let down his guard and be fairly loose lipped. "An offer of friendship from a stranger in a bar. Sounds about right. Empty, meaningless, and ultimately full of shit!"  
  
The man held up his hands in a placating gesture, indicating he meant no harm. "If you don't wanna talk about it, I get it. Sometimes you just need to be alone."  
  
"Alone. Yeah, I'm kind of used to that. "You know, for all the times I've been yelled at, slapped, humiliated and forced to work ungodly hours, I thought my boss respected me. At least a little, you know? I told myself it was tough love. He was only hard on me because he knew what I was capable of, right? Deep down, he cared about me. Right? Wrong! Turns out the guy can't even be honest with me. And after all that shit about the team being a 'family'...Sorry." Tony looked up sheepishly at his drinking companion. "The last thing you need is to hear me go on about how miserable my life is."  
  
"No. It's okay!" the young man insisted. "I'm a psychology major. I'll just think of this as extra credit."  
  
"If you insist, kid," Tony sighed, and proceeded to vent about everything from his father's abandonment to the team's insubordination when Tony was left in charge, to the fresh sting of betrayal that came with learning of Gibbs' secrecy. He was hurt, angry, and his social filter was now nonexistent.  
  
20 minutes later, Tony began to lose his train of thought. Looking up at the stranger before him, he had to admit that he felt a lot lighter, having vented his frustrations to this kind young man. A man who continued to attentively hang on Tony's every word, even though what he said no longer made much sense.  
  
"Y'rre good lissnnrrr," Tony slurred, giving the man a dopey, bleary eyed grin.  
  
The stranger smiled good naturedly. "That's good to hear, considering the fact that I'd like to get paid to listen someday," he quipped, eyeing Tony's empty glass. "But for now, I'd settle for you letting me buy you another drink."  
  
Tony looked at him uncertainly, slightly wobbling where he sat. "I dunno..."  
  
"Come on. I'll even pay for your cab home," the man insisted.  
  
Tony waved his hand permissively, and as he waited for his drink, he felt a wave of gratitude for the friendly stranger.  
  
"Here you go." The young student said warmly, placing a fresh cup of bourbon in front of Tony. "One for the road."  
  
Tony nodded his gratitude. Or, as least he thought he nodded. He couldn't be sure. Taking a swig, he felt the burn of alcohol course down his throat. In the company of a new friend- one who listened without judgement - he let the world slip away.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Tony awoke in a haze, his head spinning. Blinking, he tried to make out his surroundings. But the room was too bright, and it was hard to focus through his pounding headache. Attempting to turn his head only made things worse, as a fresh wave of nausea washed over him.  
  
"Mm'gonna be sick," he groaned, as he slowly sat up. Then, to his dismay, he realized he was naked.  
  
A weak gasp was all that Tony could manage as panic tried to push itself through the fog of his mind, and his body felt boneless as his upper half began to drop.  
  
But before he his back made contact with the floor, Tony was caught from behind in a strong, firm grip.  
  
"Easy. I got you," a voice said, as the arms holding Tony eased him into the lap of the naked man behind him.  
  
The words were hardly soothing, considering Tony's position. Beyond the fog, Tony was frightened and disoriented. He didn't like feeling out of control, at the mercy of another. Not like this.  
  
As Tony felt the bile rise in his throat, the man holding him held a bucket under his face, petting him gently as threw up into it.  
  
Even in his confused state, Tony knew that the supposed gentleness was all a manipulation. And as he felt the other man's growing erection strain into his backside, he quickly realized what his fate would be.  
  
Driven by fear, Tony tried to break free of the man's grip and run off. But his heavy limbs betrayed him, and he only succeeded in falling flat on his face.  
  
Rough hands pulled Tony up by the hair, and he once again found himself in the other man's lap. Now facing him, Tony recognized his kidnapper to be the young man he'd met at the bar.  
  
"That's what I get for being nice," the man growled. "You just made things a lot harder for yourself, Agent DiNozzo."  
  
Tony couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as long fingers made their way up and down inside his crack before roughly entering him without warning, wiggling around inside, finally making contact with Tony's prostate. He shook, sobbed and cursed, as the man worked up to three, then four fingers inside of him, his body overwhelmed with both pain and - to his great dismay - pleasure. He could feel himself tear, becoming wet with blood.  
  
"Who...a-are y-you?" Tony squeaked, struggling to speak through the pain of the dry friction in his anus.  
  
"You don't remember me?" the man asked in mock hurt, licking the nape of Tony's neck, and laughing at the whimper it elicited."Well, it has been a long time now, hasn't it?"  
  
Removing his fingers from Tony, he lifted a bloodied index finger, painting lines across Tony's cheeks before forcing the digit into his unwilling mouth.  
  
"I'm Mark Ellsworth, and I've been waiting a long time for this."


	2. Mark's New Pet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews! I love hearing what people think of my stories, and truly appreciate it when they take the time to let me know. Also, I've discovered many a good story because of reviews. If an author leaves me a review, I can pretty much guarantee that I will go and check out their work! 
> 
>  
> 
> I would like to once again thank nightchild78 for her continued support, encouragement and help as I continue to write this admittedly dark story. I don't think I'd have the nerve to continue writing this without her cheering me on.

 

"M-Mark Ellsworth," Tony choked out hoarsely. "I remember."  
  
Mark shoved Tony off of his lap, taking a moment to savor the look of fearful realization in the older man's eyes.  
  
"Good...that's good," Mark said in a menacing whisper, stroking Tony's cheek. "I _want_ you to remember. Every time I fuck you, remember that you took my brother away from me. Every time I hurt you, remember that you destroyed my family. And as I rob you of your humanity, know that you made me the man that I am!"  
  
Mark punctuated his statement by shoving Tony onto his back. He went down easily, green eyes widening in fear as the younger man hovered hungrily over him.  
  
"I know you, Agent DiNozzo. I've been watching over you for months. Day after day. Night after night. I know everything about you. Your brilliant career, your habits, your life, your... reputation. Tony DiNozzo, the skirt chaser. The ladies man."  
  
His hand ghosted over Tony's leg as he smiled dreamily.  
  
"Mark, I...I thought about you...every day since I...oh, Mark, you have to understand...Your brother was -"  
  
A stinging slap colored Tony's inner thigh.  
  
"Don't tell me what a monster my brother was," Mark hissed, pressing Tony's knees up to his ears. "How is he any more of a monster than some pig who takes a man away from his family?! Do you have any idea of how hard it was for me to be tossed about over and over like a piece of jetsam? Can you even imagine what I had to endure during all those years in foster care? No, of course, you can't. But trust me, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna make you _feel_ it. Again and again."  
  
Marks voice increased in volume with every word, his cock growing as it brushed against Tony's bloody entrance, nudging his way inside; Tony's terrified whimpers growing his arousal.  
  
"Seeing you like this, completely at my mercy...it's the ultimate justice!"  
  
With a final push, Mark buried himself deep inside Tony, balls resting against his shapely ass.  
  
A scream, raw and wild, ripped Tony's throat as the tears fell freely from his eyes. He couldn't think; couldn't speak. Through the painful haze of his violation, all Tony could see was Mark's devastated face the day they had come to arrest his brother. In his head, the screams of the little boy started to melt with his own, and he felt guilt and despair overwhelm him. Perhaps Mark was right after all. He deserved this. And as that understanding crept over him, Tony's world went black.

 

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

 

Gibbs set his phone down, after trying Tony for what seemed like the 30th time that morning. Glancing anxiously, first at his watch, then over at Tony's empty desk, he tried to mask his worry behind the facade of annoyance. It was nearly 10:00 after all, and Tony hadn't so much as checked in. As Tony's boss, it was only natural for him to feel annoyed.  
  
But as someone who cared about Tony, all Gibbs could feel was concern. Tony had always been the type to soldier on, no matter what personal and / or professional difficulties he might be facing.  
  
While still recovering from the plague, Tony came in to work a case, only to watch as Kate was killed right in front of him.  
  
When the position of team leader was thrust upon him unexpectedly, Tony took over for Gibbs, enduring the disrespect and insubordination of the team.  
  
When Gibbs returned from Mexico and took back the reigns, dumping Tony's things back on his old desk and effectively "putting him back in his place" (as he'd once overheard Ziva say), Tony swallowed his pride and accepted his demotion.  
  
When, in the span of one terrible morning, he'd blown his undercover operation, lost his girlfriend and had his car blown up, he came in and kept working.  
  
No matter what the circumstances, Tony had remained devoted to the job and the team.  
  
But things were different now. Gibbs had screwed up. He realized that now. In fact, when he thought back on everything, this was just the latest in a series of times he hadn't been there to support Tony when he should have been. He kept secrets "for the good of the team", never stopping to think how harmful those secrets could be. Now that Gibbs really thought about it, it probably wasn't in the team's best interest to have Tony working with someone who thought so little of him. Ziva wasn't Kate. And as much as Tony had transferred his feelings of brotherly affection and protectiveness to her, Gibbs knew that she would never care about Tony the way that Kate had.  
  
Looking over at Ziva, Gibbs noticed she barely seemed concerned with Tony's whereabouts. She had shot a few concerned glances Gibbs' way, but seemed more worried that he was angry at her for her part in things than she was about Tony.  
  
McGee, however, kept looking between Tony's empty chair and Gibbs' concerned / annoyed appearance. He and Tony often bickered like brothers, but they also loved each other liked brothers. Tim and Tony had become good friends, and the younger agent wasn't nearly as good at Gibbs was at masking his concern. As soon as he noticed Gibbs' gut was churning over Tony's absence, he'd made his own efforts to get a hold of his friend.  
  
"McGee, you run that trace on Tony's phone yet?" Gibbs asked, his voice tinged with worry and exhaustion.  
  
"Still turned off, boss," McGee replied, typing away on his computer. I'm tracking the GPS on Tony's car now...Got it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "It's in the parking lot at a bar, just outside of Silver Spring!"  
  
Tim wrote down the address on a slip of paper, handing it to Gibbs, who dashed off to the elevator with it without so much as a "thank you".  
  
With a heavy sigh, Ziva watched their team leader's exit, then shook her head slightly as she turned her attention back to her work.  
  
McGee eyed Ziva, frowning. He hadn't missed the uncomfortable silence between Gibbs and the Israeli that morning. And he couldn't help but notice the knowing glares exchanged.  
  
"Is there something you guys aren't telling me?" McGee asked suspiciously.  
  
"It...it is not important," Ziva said dismissively, eyes on her work.  
  
Tim couldn't tell if she was avoiding his gaze out of rudeness, or because she feared her eyes would reveal her to be a liar.

 

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

 

Tony awoke to darkness. Try as he might, he couldn't open is eyes. Something must have been placed over them. A blindfold? No. There was a tugging at his skin when he tried to blink. It must be duct tape. He tried to peel the tape off, but his hands wouldn't move, as his entire body seemed to be bound tightly.  
  
Hazy memories returned to Tony with harsh clarity, and he couldn't fight the panic that was swiftly overpowering him.  
  
_"Mark Ellsworth...he..."_ Tony let out a sob; the burning pain in his bottom serving as a painful reminder of what had been done to him. Before he knew it, he was crying like a baby, thrashing around uselessly in fear and frustration as panic consumed him.  
  
Tony's thoughts were put back into focus as Mark painfully ripped the duct tape from his eyes, then untied his arms and legs.  
  
"My, my, aren't you a noisy pig," Mark purred, kissing the reddened skin around Tony's eyes. "I do love it when you squeal."  
  
"Where...?" Tony blinked, his eyes still stinging. He could tell he was up on a bed, and though the lights were dimmed, he appeared to be in some kind of finished basement.  
  
"Welcome to your new home, pig," Mark said in a mocking tone, as he started to unfasten something around Tony's waist.  
  
Tony's face flushed a deep red as he realized what was happening. "Am I wearing a diaper?" he asked, mortified.  
  
"Yes, well, you were passed out. And I had to do _something_ with you while I was at work, didn't I? I couldn't have you running off to use the bathroom. Who knows where else you might run?" Mark explained as he rolled Tony onto his side, lingering hands wiping the older man's ass.  
  
"Don't you see, piggy? I _own_ you! Your body is no longer your own. Your every movement is controlled by _me_. I can and will do with you as I please. At any given moment, I expect you to be my slave, pet, baby doll or fuck toy." Rolling Tony onto his back, Mark spread his thighs, massaging the meaty flesh.  
  
_"I don't think so!"_ Seeing an opening, Tony kicked his foot up, aiming for Mark's face, and missing.

 

Mark simply laughed, grabbing the offending foot and pressing down on the nerve that ran along the top; causing Tony to wince in agony.  
  
"You try that again, and I'll break this foot! Got it, pig?"  
  
Putting on as brave a front as he could, Tony forced a smile through the pain. First, he shook his foot free from Mark's grasp and sat up. Then, he stood unsteadily to face Mark. "I've survived the plague, I've been tortured by terrorists...hell, this isn't even the first time I've been kidnapped. You really think I'm scared of you?"  
  
Mark grinned as he embraced Tony; a menacing, predatory gleam in his eyes. He started running his fingers through Tony's hair. Tony flinched, which only made Mark hold on tighter; more possessively.  
  
"I think that you feel responsible for me. I think you want to make up for all those years you stole from me. Don't you, piggy? Don't you?" Mark cooed, as if talking to a family pet.  
  
"No," Tony protested, fresh tears forming in his eyes. "Not like this."  
  
Mark stomped down hard on Tony's right foot with his sturdy work boot, then yanked him by the hair.  
  
Blinded by pain, Tony couldn't help but allow himself to be dragged away by his tormentor.  
  
"You don't get to decide!" Mark snarled, before bashing Tony's head into the wall and knocking him unconscious.

 

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

 

Mark stood back, admiring his handiwork. He had bound Tony's arms tightly behind his back, pulling them into the strappado position and suspending him from the ceiling by the wrists with thick leather cuffs; forcing his head downwards. Tony wore matching cuffs on his ankles, which attached to a spreader bar. So deliciously vulnerable. Oh yes! Mark would break him! That smug cop who hauled his brother away in cuffs would soon be no more than a pet; a perfect, obedient pet. Mark adjusted his hardening cock. He was becoming so aroused at the thought of stripping away every last bit of Tony's dignity; completely dehumanizing him. He deserved no less.  
  
Tony was just coming to, and Mark delighted in his whimpers and squeals of agony.  
  
"Oh, good. You're awake," Mark said cheerily, pressing down on the large bruise forming on Tony's forehead, causing the bound man to wince. "Now the fun can begin."  
  
"Don't..." Tony struggled to speak through his pain. "I didn't...destroy...AHH!!!"  
  
A whip to the back interrupted Tony's statement, an angry Mark Ellsworth taking repeated lashes at him."  
  
"What you were going to say?" Mark asked, smiling at the bloody lines that now decorated Tony's back. "That you didn't destroy my family?"  
  
_LASH!_  
  
"That you were just doing your job?"  
  
_LASH!_  
  
"That my brother needed to be held accountable for his crimes?"  
  
_LASH!_  
  
Tony's screams mixed with sobs as the whip continued to burn across his back. As Mark moved the whip skillfully to work Tony's inner thighs and groin, Tony lost control of his bladder, a long, steady stream of urine running down his legs and onto the floor, and he sobbed helplessly in shame.  
  
"You know, you can squeal all you want, pig," Mark said casually, brushing the whip lightly across Tony's backside. "My roommate has soundproofed the walls. No one will hear you scream."  
  
Tony's sobs stopped for just a moment at the word "roommate."  
  
"Yes, I have a roommate, pig. And yes, he knows all about what I'm doing to you."  
  
"Tony...my name...Tony." Tony's voice was weak, high pitched and shaky. It was clear that he was struggling to keep control of his emotions; a battle he was already losing.  
  
"Stop...calling...'pig'."  
  
With an unsettling laugh, Mark snapped the whip against Tony's ass.  
  
"But when I met you, you were a cop. A pig!" Mark pointed out. "And you _have_ gained weight since I last saw you," he added, as he continued to lash Tony's bottom.  
  
"NO!!!" Tony wept. "Please stop!!!"  
  
"Quiet!" Mark ordered, continuing his assault  
  
"Call me 'Master'!"  
  
"N-ne-ver," Tony choked breathlessly.  
  
A series of angry lashes sliced into Tony's cheeks, until there was almost no unblemished flesh remaining, and Mark found himself gleefully motivated by the tortured screams. Throwing the bloody whip to the floor, Mark was pleased to see Tony shaking like a leaf. He moved to crouch in front of Tony, noting the dazed look in his eyes. Mark grinned wickedly. It was clear that Tony had no fight left in him.  
  
"Call me 'Master'."  
  
"M-master." Tony's lips quivered as he forced the word out with disdain, clearly disgusted with himself.  
  
"Good...that's a good pig," Mark cooed, claiming Tony's lips in a rough kiss. "You are my property. You are my pet."  
  
Tony could only sob at the loss of his humanity. Death would be a kinder than this fate.  
  
"Say it!" Mark ordered, causing Tony to yelp. "You are my property! You are my pet!"  
  
"I...I am...your...property. I am...your...pet."  
  
Mark smirked. Hearing those words from the man he blamed for ruining his life was music to his ears. But he wasn't going to let Tony off that easily.  
  
"You pay good lip service, pig," Mark said, removing his pants. "The only problem is, I don't believe you."  
  
He walked over to a table in the corner with an assortment of sex toys, picking up a cock ring and examining it. _"Yes. This should do nicely,"_ he thought, moving to stand behind Tony.  
  
"I need you to understand," Mark explained, lining up his hardened cock with Tony's entrance, which was still very tight, despite the thorough fucking he'd had the night before. "I. Own. You." He entered Tony's unprepared ass, thrusting himself in deeply to the sound of Tony's screams; hitting his prostate every time.  
  
"Yes!" Mark grunted in satisfaction, seating himself comfortably inside Tony. Reaching around, he could feel Tony's erection straining for release. "See? You like it. You're such a slut for my dick," Mark teased, sliding the cock ring up Tony's shaft until it squeezed tightly around his balls.  
  
"But this little piggy won't be coming today." Mark extracted himself from Tony and licked a strip of blood from one of the welts on his ass. "Now tell me, what are you?"  
  
Tony whimpered, hiccuped and gasped, struggling to speak through the sensations of pain and pleasure cruelly coursing through his body.  
  
"I'm...p-prop...property...pet..." he finally managed.  
  
"That's better," Mark said, picking a large, heavy butt plug off of the table. Once inserted, the long, penis shaped toy would put constant pressure on Tony's prostate.  
  
"Remember your place, pig." Mark inserted the plug, laughing darkly at the loud groan from Tony. "Those were your last words," he added, pressing at the base of the plug as Tony's hungry hole swallowed it. "With those words, you revoke your humanity. You will never speak again, even when spoken to. You have no thoughts of your own, no rights and no free will. You will live out the rest of your pitiful life only to serve me. You got that?"  
  
"Y-yes," Tony whimpered.  
  
"What did I just say?!" Mark slapped Tony's ass sharply. "It seems you'll need some training."  
  
With that, Mark picked up a large, red ball gag off of the table and placed it in Tony's mouth. It looked good, he thought. It stretched Tony's mouth open wide.  
  
"Well, would you look at that," Mark chuckled, fastening the gag tightly around Tony's head. "Piggy's got an apple in his mouth."  
  
Tony cried around the gag, drool dribbling down his chin.  
  
"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," Mark snarled, laughing derisively. Standing, he walked to the foot of the basement stairs. "I'd say 'make yourself comfortable', but...you know..." he chuckled before walking up the stairs and turning out the light, leaving Tony to hang in the darkened basement.


	3. A Mind Made Fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize these early chapters are brutal. Hang in there, because it will get better!

 

A warm, wet cloth pressed in a soothing manor against the tender flesh of Tony's inner thighs, easing him into wakefulness.  
  
Slowly opening his eyes, he felt too weak from hunger to question the gentle sponge bath he was receiving at the hands of Mark Ellsworth. His thoughts were too fuzzy and incoherent to even question why the man who had only recently raped, hurt and humiliated him was now treating him with care and kindness.  
  
Tony looked up at Mark as the younger man gently washed the urine off of him. He hated himself for being so weak and compliant; accepting any form of comfort offered, simply because lately he had known nothing but pain.  
  
Tony also hated that he hadn't had the will to fight back. But every time he had thought to try, he caught a glint in Mark's eyes. A reflection of the young boy who had lost his family. A boy who was the same age Tony was when his father abandoned him; leaving him feeling unloved and directionless. No one should have to grow up feeling lost, and if Tony could have found a stable home for Mark and his sister, he would have. But the home they had, with their monster of an older brother, was hardly safe or stable. And while there was surely love there, it was a twisted love. Who knew what Paul Ellsworth would have done to his younger siblings had he not been taken away? Would they meet a fate similar to that of Alisa Wyatt? As an officer of the law, and just a decent human being, Tony couldn't let that happen.  
  
But Mark didn't understand this. Tony's face had become a symbol of loss and abandonment for him. Mark had grown up bitter and filled with rage, and he needed someone to take that rage out on.  
  
A part of Tony knew it was wrong to allow Mark to abuse him. But all reason was drown out by the sad devastation in the eyes of the young boy he'd met in 1999. And for all that Mark had done to him, that boy was all that Tony could see.  
  
Tony couldn't help but to see his current situation as a metaphor for his entire life. For years, he'd been used, abused and taken advantage of. The only difference was that Gibbs and the team hid behind an act of "family", calling their mistreatment of Tony "tough love". At least Mark was being honest and direct about it.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
O'Dowd's Pub was empty, save for the man behind the bar, who stood with a clipboard, apparently taking inventory on the liquor supply. He looked up, and appeared a little surprised when Gibbs entered, obviously not used to customers at this relatively early hour.  
  
"What can I get you?" he asked cheerfully.  
  
Gibbs looked the other man up and down. He was average height. About 5'8", slender, with shaggy, dark brown hair. If Gibbs were to guess, he'd say he was in his mid 30s. He wore a tight, black v-neck shirt, only slightly less tight faded blue jeans, and had a stud in his left ear. He looked like he might be the manager at a place like this. If not, he was at least someone in the know.  
  
"You in charge here?" Gibbs asked.  
  
The man nodded in confirmation. "I'm Todd."  
  
"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs said, all business as he flashed his badge and ID.  
  
"Oh! You must be here about the guy that was in here last night!" Todd said in obvious recognition. "Tall, good looking guy. Brown hair, green eyes. In his 40s. I wanna say his name was Tony?"  
  
"You saw him?" Gibbs asked, trying not to let his stern facade slip, even as he felt a wave of hope wash over him.  
  
"Oh yeah. He got pretty wasted. Kept talking about you, actually. He said - "  
  
"Special Agent DiNozzo will have the chance to tell me whatever he needs to when I find him," Gibbs cut Todd off. "Is there anything else you remember about last night that might be helpful?"  
  
"Uh...yeah. He was talking to this young guy, about half his age. They seemed to really hit it off. He ended up leaving with the guy about the time I cut him off. Your friend was barely standing. I think it's safe to say his new friend took him home. He at least called a cab for him."  
  
Gibbs eyed the security camera in the corner of the bar. "Can I take a look at the footage from last night?" Gibbs asked, pointing.  
  
"Sure. Whatever you need," Todd said agreeably. 

 

"How about the footage from the camera in the parking lot?" Gibbs requested.  
  
"Oh...ah...that's actually not working now," Todd informed Gibbs apologetically. "But I can give you the phone numbers of everyone else who was working last night, if you think that might be helpful."  
  
 "It might"   

Under Gibbs watchful eye, Todd very self consciously scrawled a list of names on a piece of paper and handed it to Gibbs.

   
"I hope you find your agent. Poor guy seemed like he was in a bad place."

Gibbs nodded, averting Todd's gaze, not wanting to admit that Tony's state of mind was at least partially his fault.

  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Mark laughed to himself as he watched his baby doll, sprawled on top of the bed, his private bits on full display.  
  
Grabbing a towel from behind him, Mark lightly dried Tony off. He wanted nothing more than to feel the tight heat of Tony's ass around him. But it had been more than a day since Tony had anything to eat or drink. Mark supposed now would be as good a time as any to feed his pet.  
  
It was kind of perfect, actually, Mark thought. Alternating between rough violation and gentle care. Confusing Tony to the the point that he didn't know whether to feel safe or scared. He would teach Tony that defiance had consequences. Then, he would hold and comfort him, drying his tears in the aftermath of those consequences. He would make Tony both fear and crave his touch. Eventually, Tony's fragile hold on sanity would let go; his mind shattered. There would come a point when Tony stopped fighting back, realizing that total submission was the key to his survival. But until then, Mark couldn't let him starve to death. It's impossible, after all, to break a dead man.  
  
Mark got onto the bed with Tony, scooping him into his arms and cradling him like a child.  
Grabbing a cup off of the floor by the bed, Mark's fingers parted Tony's lips, prying his mouth open as he stuck a straw into it. On instinct, Tony's lips closed around the straw and he sucked hungrily at the liquid in the cup. It was nothing special. Just a smoothie made with rotten bananas, spoiled milk and protein powder; the kind that tasted vaguely of feet. But Tony didn't seem to mind; so weak and mad with hunger, he would accept any form of sustenance offered at this point.  
  
"That's it, drink up," Mark cooed. "Such a good piggy! Such a hungry piggy!"  
  
"Not pig. I'm Tony."  
  
And there it was. The smallest spark of defiance, still present in Tony. A spark that would need to quickly be extinguished. Apparently, Tony was a slow learner, and his earlier lesson hadn't stuck.  
  
Tony needed to be silenced. Even as Mark's pet, a voice would allow Tony the tiniest bit of control. Whether that control was simply the ability to get under Mark's skin with his remarks, or re open old wounds by bringing up his brother's crimes, it gave him power. It helped to identify him as a human being with thoughts and feelings of his own.  
  
But Tony was no longer human. Mark would make sure that he understood that. He didn't have the right to think or speak for himself. And by the time Mark was through with him, his only thoughts would be of blind obedience to his master.  
  
So as Tony looked up at Mark, proclaiming his humanity, Mark wasted no time in punishing his pet. Climbing off of the bed, Mark roughly yanked Tony to the floor.  
  
As Tony, still weak and malnourished, looked up at Mark, the younger man took a dog's choke collar off of a hook on the wall.  
  
Fastening the collar around the neck of an otherwise naked Tony, Mark then attached a leash to it. Pulling it tight, Mark glared down at Tony as he gasped for breath.  
  
"Pigs. Don't. Talk."  
  
Squirming flat on his back, Tony pounded weakly at the floor, tears in his eyes. And as Mark loosened the collar's hold around his neck, he delivered a stinging slap to Tony's thigh.  
  
"On all fours!" Mark ordered, yanking Tony up by the leash. "Now follow me, pig!"  
  
Tony crawled after Mark, clearly fighting a losing battle not to collapse in a heap on the floor.  
  
Once they'd reached the opposite end of the finished basement, Mark finally stopped, kicking Tony's body into a small walk in closet.  
  
Without a word, he then went upstairs, leaving Tony to wait in the dark. Tony had thought that was it, until Mark came back down with another man. In the dark closet, Tony could only make out his large, imposing silhouette, which reached over and yanked him upright. Meanwhile, Mark grabbed Tony by the leather cuffs around his wrists, fastening them to rings on the ceiling. Once this was done, the larger man let go of Tony.  
  
Hanging as he was, the weight of Tony's entire body pulled down on his wrists. Crying out in agony, Tony attempted to pull himself up and relieve the strain on his wrists. But it was no use. As weak as he was, Tony had no choice but to endure.  
  
"Remember how you feel right now the next time you think about talking," Mark snarled, as he and the other man exited the cramped closet. "I'll be back later to finish punishing you."  
  
Closing the closet door, Mark delighted in Tony's muffled cries of fear and anguish. He smiled knowingly. His pet was breaking.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Gibbs wandered into Abby's lab, Caf Pow in hand, hoping more than ever for some good news.  
  
"Whatta ya got -" he began. But before his standard question / greeting for Abby had a chance to leave his lips, the goth forensic scientic turned sharply on her heels, eyes narrowed, pointing an accusing finger at him with one hand, and snatching the Caf Pow with the other.  
  
"What did you do to Tony?" she more demanded than asked.  
  
It was rare for Abby to get upset with Gibbs, or see him has anything other than a father figure who could do no wrong. Gibbs could guess the source of her anger, but he decided to play dumb. More because it was still hard for him to face the consequences of his choices than anything else.  
  
"Abby! I'm trying to find Tony!" Gibbs reminded her, in a weak attempt at defending himself.  
  
"I saw the security footage from the bar, Gibbs! Don't forget I can read lips! I didn't get everything Tony was saying, because he wasn't always facing the camera. But I got enough to know that you're the reason he got stupid drunk! God, Gibbs, Tony was _crying!_ Sure, it was drunk crying, but still! Tony never drinks like that! What happened between you two?"  
  
Gibbs' glare was somewhat softened by a look of pained regret. "I screwed up, all right, Abs?" he answered softly. "What matters now is finding Tony. Were you able to get anything from the video?"  
  
Abby gave Gibbs a look that clearly told him that while she didn't like being kept in the dark, she understood the importance of getting down to business. She would just have to wait fo her curiousity to be satisfied. Finding Tony was the top priority.  
  
Taking Gibbs by the hand, she lead him over to the monitor, where an image of Tony and another, much younger man was frozen on the screen. Gibbs' heart sank into his stomach at Tony's expression. It was the look of fresh betrayal he'd had the last time Gibbs had seen him, amplified by intoxication. Gibbs knew he could be a bastard sometimes, and he didn't doubt he had hurt Tony before. But this was the first time he could clearly see the damage he'd done.  
  
Swallowing back his guilt, Gibbs turned his attention to the young man with Tony. The man who just might hold the answer to his missing agent's whereabouts.  
  
"You got an ID on our young friend here?" Gibbs asked.  
  
"I'm running facial recognition now," Abby informed him. "It was hard to get a good forward facing shot, so I'm not sure I -"  
  
The alert on her computer cut Abby off, and she shot Gibbs a wide grin.  
  
"Perfect timing, as usual! We've got an ID! Tony's drinking buddy is Mark Ellsworth, born February 8th, 1987 in Baltimore."  
  
Gibbs' face went pale as he looked at the ID up on the screen, his gut twisting in knots. "Mark Ellsworth..."  
  
"Uh, yeah. Do you know him?" Seeing the worry on Gibbs' face, Abby placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.  
  
Gibbs shook his head. "No. But Tony did. And I don't believe for a second that Tony running into him at the bar was a coincidence!"  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Tony squirmed in his restraints, aching for relief he knew would never come. He didn't know how long he'd been hanging by his wrists. But he'd been there long enough that his screams and cries had died down to pathetic whimpers. Through the haze of pain and starvation, Tony wondered how long it would be before his arms fell off. He had stopped hoping for rescue awhile ago. Now, his only wish was for the pain to stop. One way or another.  
  
The closet door flung open, a stream of light blinding Tony's eyes, now so accustomed to darkness. He could faintly make out the blurred images of Mark and the other man. The man was large. Probably a few inches taller than Tony, and solidly built. He would be able to physically overtake Tony under the best of circumstances. His hair was short cropped and blond. As to the face, at the moment, Tony could only really make out that he looked young, though not as young as Mark. Probably in his early to mid 30s.  
  
Now, the large man wrapped his arms securely around Tony as Mark uncuffed his wrists from the ceiling. Then, as Tony's full weight fell into the other man's arms, he lifted Tony up, carrying him over to the bed and dropping him there.  
  
"You're right," the man commented, looking down at Tony, who had curled himself up as small as he could, shivering. "He  _is_ pretty!"  
  
"Hands off, Kyle! He's mine!" Mark said possessively, grabbing Tony by the hair and pulling him up onto his knees.  
  
Kyle shrugged indifferently as he lit a tall, white candle on a table against the wall. "The guy's too old for me anyway. As long as I get to watch, I'm happy."  
  
Mark snorted. "You won't fuck an old guy, but you're fine with watching someone else fuck him?"  
  
"Don't judge," Kyle laughed. "I just want to see you turn the big, bad federal agent into a submissive little baby."  
  
Tony inhaled, ready to speak, when he felt the choke collar tighten around his throat.  
  
"Even _thoughts_ of speech will be punished," Mark explained, as Tony gasped for air.  
  
Still pulling the chain tight, he then motioned to his friend. "Tony, this is my roommate, Kyle. He'll act as our audience. And sometimes, as you've seen, he'll help me to haul your fat ass around."  
  
Mark finally released the chain, letting Tony drop to the bed as he coughed and wheezed.  
  
"Now for the rest of your punishment."  
  
With a nod of Mark's head, Kyle was soon at the bed, spreading Tony's thighs wide open.  
  
"He's kind of doughy," Kyle commented, kneading Tony's soft flesh.  
  
"Yeah, he's a bit out of shape," Mark agreed, rubbing Tony's belly. "But it's nothing I can't fix."  
  
Tony wanted to speak up in protest, but thought better of it. He was already learning that speech had painful consequences.  
  
Walking over to the small table, Mark picked the candle out of the holder, carefully carrying it over to the bed and holding it over Tony.  
  
Letting the hot wax drip down, first onto Tony's nipples, then his stomach, and finally his genitals, Mark laughed darkly as Tony writhed and screamed.  
  
"See what happens when you try to talk, pig?" Mark let the candle linger over Tony's neck, looking straight into his wide, green eyes as the wax splashed down. "You have no rights. You have no voice. You are my toy, and I'll play with you as I please!"  
  
Mark set the candle back in its holder. Then he quickly pulled off his pants, stroking his growing erection. Tony's eyes were wide, red rimmed and teary, his lower lip trembling like crazy. Shaking and crying like a scared child, it seemed that the older man had lost all sense of pride, surrendering to fear.  
  
As Mark pressed Tony's knees up as far as they could go, lining himself up with his pet's tight, hot entrance, only one clear thought passed through Tony's mind.

 

_"No one will miss me."_


	4. Good Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter. Writing about Tony getting raped and abused is difficult emotionally. But I feel it's important to show some of what happened to make him as broken as he's going to be by the time he's rescued. I know these early chapters are brutal, but the worst is almost over. I promise.
> 
> Another challenge was writing the investigative aspect of things. Even though I've written NCIS fics before, I've never written an investigation. So I was super nervous about getting that right!
> 
> Hopefully, I did all right and the chapter is a success. *crosses fingers* Please try not to be too harsh in the comments. Writing this type of story is an all around new experience for me.
> 
> I should also mention that, upon realizing that it was a detail that needed to be addressed, I did go back and edit the last chapter to explain that the security camera outside the bar was broken. 
> 
> Also, we haven't heard much from Abby since the search for Tony first started. But after they find him, expect a storm of emotion from her in the coming chapters!

 

 

With Tony missing for two days, his disappearance was now an official NCIS case. Director Vance had given Gibbs the go ahead to lead the investigation, knowing he would find a way to worm himself into working it anyway.  
  
There was an urgency to this case, unlike any others. Because although the team had failed him over the years, and they often downplayed his contributions, Tony's absence was keenly felt. They could have really used his quick thinking and resourceful wit at a time like this. Left to blindly try piecing together what had happened to Tony, they could only hope that resourcefulness would be able to save him.  
  
Now, tension hung thick in the bullpen, as McGee pulled up Mark Ellsworth's information on the plasma. Gone was the humor and light hearted banter that was usually present. And it wasn't just because Tony wasn't be there to help provide it. There was a thick, unspoken tension between Gibbs and Ziva. Guilt mixed with regret, coming together in an urgency that left both of them snappish.  
  
McGee, meanwhile, tried to keep his focus as he presented the information to them. Whatever was causing the tension between Gibbs and Ziva, and however it might relate to Tony, could be dealt with after they found their missing team mate!  
  
"Mark Jacob Ellsworth, age 22, born in Baltimore. His parents died in 1996 in a car crash, leaving Mark and his sister Jennifer in the care of their half brother Paul," McGee began, pulling up three side by side photos of the Ellsworth siblings.  
  
"Three years later, Paul was arrested for the rape and murder of 15 year old Alisa Wyatt, who also happened to be Jennifer's best friend," McGee continued, flipping to Paul's mug shot and a school portrait of Jennifer.  
  
"And the arresting officer was Tony," Ziva sighed.  
  
"It was his first homicide," Gibbs confirmed with a curt nod. "After the arrest, Tony helped to get Jennifer and Mark set up in the foster system, and made sure that they were placed in the same homes. He didn't think that family should be kept apart."  
  
"Tony told you this?" Ziva asked, her tone challenging.  
  
"Yeah, David, he did!" Gibbs snapped. "Back when we first met."  
  
Unfazed, McGee kept talking, raising his voice to cut through the bickering. "Unfortunately, it looks like Mark and Jennifer ended up separated in 2001." McGee paused. Looking thoughtful, he turned to Gibbs. "Hey boss, that's when -"  
  
"When Tony started working at NCIS," Gibbs quietly confirmed."That must be when he stopped keeping track of them. The way I work my agents...he never had the time."  
  
McGee shot Gibbs a look of silent concern, hoping he wasn't blaming himself for anything. But since Gibbs wasn't exactly one to talk about his feelings, he decided not to pursue the issue.  
  
"Paul was killed in prison 4 years after his arrest," McGee continued. "Jennifer is currently a preschool teacher in Apex, North Carolina. Never married, no kids."  
  
McGee then pulled up an image of Mark's mug shot. "Mark has held a number of jobs over the years, most recently working the drive-thru at Beltway Burger, and as a sales clerk at Sensual Secrets where he sold...well...the name pretty much speaks for itself. Arrested for drunk driving last year. Other than that, his record is clean."  
  
"Where can we find him now?" Gibbs asked, glaring at the screen as if he were willing Mark's image to burst into flames.  
  
"That's the problem, boss," McGee said with a defeated sigh. "His last known address is an apartment in Roanoke. But we have no current address or place of employment, no cell phone records, and about three months ago, he closed out his bank account."  
  
"What about that...uh...Face Paper thingie," Gibbs asked, taking a final swig of coffee and setting the empty cup on his desk.  
  
"You mean Facebook," McGee corrected. "Mark does have a Facebook account, and yes, I was able to hack into it. But there's no real activity on it. No conversations to speak of. It seems to only exist for him to play games."  
  
"So we have nothing!" Ziva threw up her hands, exasperated.  
  
"No!" Gibbs gave Ziva a harder than usual head slap. "We have former employers, coworkers and roommates to interview! Any one of them could have some clue where Mark might be holed up right now!"  
  
"I can make a list of all past contacts, divide them up by proximity and -"  
  
"Fine! Do it, McGee!" Gibbs hollered, taking a seat behind his desk. "Once you finish that list, you give it to me!"  
  
"I...uh...I've also contacted Jennifer Ellsworth. She said she hasn't spoken to Mark in 2 years, but she might be able to give us some useful information. She's flying in tomorrow morning," McGee added, almost as an afterthought.  
  
"Well, why didn't you tell me that first?" Gibbs asked, annoyed.  
  
"In retrospect, maybe I should have," McGee said sheepishly, getting back to work.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Jennifer Ellsworth nervously paced the conference room, twirling a strand of long, wavy brown hair. She wasn't sure what NCIS could possibly need her for, but when she was told it was about her brother, she didn't hesitate to book a flight. They may not have left things on the best of terms, but he was family, and she'd never stop worrying for him.  
  
Turning as she heard the door open with a heavy click, she saw a tall, handsome, silver haired man enter.  
  
"Jennifer Ellsworth? Special Agent Gibbs," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to her. Accepting it, she couldn't help feeling intimidated by his steely blue eyes. It was as if he could see through to her innermost secrets. Not that she had anything to hide. But it was still unnerving.  
  
"I spoke to a Special Agent McGee. He said you wanted to talk to me about my brother."  
  
Gibbs nodded, motioning for Jennifer to take a seat.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry, but we haven't spoken in two years. And before that, we'd lost touch for a long time.  
  
"I know," Gibbs said. "But I think that you still might be able to help us. Do you remember Anthony DiNozzo?"  
  
"Of course I do," Jennifer laughed nervously. "He arrested my brother when..." Her voice trailed off, a worried look suddenly darkening her features. "Wait. Is he all right?"  
  
"Why would you ask that?" Gibbs inquired.  
  
Jennifer bit her lip thoughtfully. "Well, Mark was very close to our brother. At the time, Paul was the closest thing to a parent we had, and it was hard on both of us when he was arrested. I mean, I knew what he did was wrong! For a long time, I hated Paul. He raped and killed my best friend! During a sleepover, while I was upstairs sleeping, none the wiser, he was -"  
  
"Jennifer," Gibbs cut her off. "What about Mark?"  
  
"Right." Jennifer cleared her throat and straightened herself up. "Well, I could see Paul for the killer that he was. I didn't want to at first, but after they found Alisa's body and all that evidence, I had to stop denying it. But Mark? He kind of idolized Paul. And having him taken away from us just a few years after losing our parents was another big disruption in our lives. I don't think he was ever able to bounce back from that.  
  
"He contacted you a couple of years ago," Gibbs commented.  
  
"Yes. He'd looked me up and wanted to reconnect. But when we talked, he seemed less interested in catching up than he was about obsessing over how our childhoods were taken away from us, and the man he thought was responsible for ruining out lives."  
  
"Your brother thought that was Special Agent DiNozzo," Gibbs stated.  
  
" 'Special Agent DiNozzo'? He's one of your agents now?" Jennifer felt her stomach flip.  
  
"He's my _best_ agent," Gibbs clarified, the pride all too evident in his voice. "He went missing last week. He was last seen at a bar, talking to your brother."  
  
"And you want me to try and find him? You hope that maybe he can lead you to Officer - Special Agent DiNozzo?" Jennifer guessed.  
  
"I think you're our best shot," Gibbs told her. "Your brother's gone off the grid. Right now, the only sign he even exists anymore is a Facebook page that he barely touches. We were hoping that maybe you could reach out to him there."  
  
For a minute, Jennifer gazed, teary eyed, into her lap. She held no grudge against Tony DiNozzo. Even through the angry teenage haze of hormones, colored by the loss of her best friend at the hands of her own blood, she knew that Tony was just a man doing his job. If anything, he had saved them from the monster that their brother had become. But now, Jennifer feared that Mark may have turned into a monster as well.  
  
"I'll do it," Jennifer finally agreed. "What do you want me to say?"  
  
"Make him believe that you've come around to his way of thinking," Gibbs replied. "Tell him you realize now that he's all you've got, and Tony tried to take that away."  
  
"You know I don't really think that, right? If my brother is hurting Tony, I can't support that."  
  
"I know", Gibbs said, smiling for the first time since she got there. Reaching out to shake her hand one last time, Gibbs then stood up and walked to the door. "Special Agent McGee will be here in a few minutes to help you compose the message. 'Secure network' or something. Computers really aren't my thing." Gibbs gave Jennifer a self deprecating smile, and she couldn't help but to laugh in return.  
  
"Special Agent Gibbs?" she called as he started out the door. "I really do hope you find Tony. He's a good man."  
  
"I know he is." Gibbs smiled sadly at the young woman. "Thank you."  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
**Three weeks later:**  
  
_Tony snuggled on the couch with Gibbs, his face buried in the older man's chest, breathing in the intoxicating aroma of sawdust and coffee. Feeling secure in the warmth of his arms. The torment he'd suffered at the hands of Mark Ellsworth was now behind him. And with each new day, he would heal a little more, until his ordeal was nothing more than a distant nightmare.  
  
"I was wrong, Tony," Gibbs confessed, his breath warming the top of Tony's head. "I shouldn't have kept Ziva's ultimatum from you. You've had my six for years, and I should have had yours."  
  
Tony looked up at the older man, a corner of his lip curling into a smirk. "Are you apologizing?" he asked, noting that Gibbs had done everything in his power to say "I'm sorry" without actually saying it.  
  
Gibbs smiled right back, blue eyes gleaming with sorrow. "You know that I am," he confessed, kissing the top of Tony's head. "After what that bastard Ellsworth did to you, I don't think I can ever forgive myself."  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Tony sighed, fisting Gibbs' shirt as if it were a lifeline. "I'm the one who let myself get abducted. I was stupid."  
  
"Stop it, Tony." Gibbs squeezed Tony close. "What matters is that you're back where you belong. And I'm never letting you get away from me again."  
  
Letting his hand sneak up behind Gibbs' neck. Tony pulled himself up, kissing his silver haired lover. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"No. You're not," a voice said darkly, as Tony felt his airway constrict.  
_  
  
Tony awoke with the choke collar strangling him. Panicked, his arm jerked back; an automatic reflex that sent his fist very close to Mark's groin. Realizing almost immediately what he'd done, Tony tried to curl up, making himself as small as he could. But with Mark still choking him, that was near impossible.  
  
"Not only did you disobey me by speaking," Mark growled, finally loosening the collar's hold on Tony. "But then you dared to attack your Master?! This is going to require a severe punishment."  
  
Tony blinked up at the younger man in fear and confusion. He hadn't meant to attack his Master. He'd just been startled. Was he really going to be punished for a innocent mistake?  
  
Yanking Tony up onto all fours - he was no longer permitted to walk - Mark tugged at Tony's leash, leading him out of his small bedroom (more of a cell, really) in the finished basement. Tony crawled behind as quickly as he could, which wasn't easy, considering the fact that his wrists and ankles were cuffed close together, and his movements were very limited. He kept toppling over, and each time, Mark hollered what a useless pig he was.  
  
Finally, Tony found himself in the small bathroom. He hated this room. He was permitted to relieve himself, but only with Mark standing behind him, manhandling his dick and aiming it into the toilet for him. If Tony had to have a bowel movement, Mark and Kyle sat and watched, laughing at him.  
  
Tony was allowed baths. But Mark always bathed him; an unpleasant experience that involved lots of body shaming, molestation, and always a painful fucking.  
  
Releasing Tony's leash, Mark dropped him into a quivering heap on the floor. Tony hated feeling exposed like this. Since becoming Mark's pet, Tony had no choice but to remain nude. Now, lying face down, Tony struggled in his restraints, hoping to at least roll himself over onto his back. He didn't want any surprises. He wanted to see just what his Master had planned for him. Besides, laying on top of his cuffed hands wasn't exactly comfortable.  
  
Scrunching his face up in concentration, Tony flopped about like a fish on land, trying to shift positions. Above him, he could hear Mark and Kyle laughing derisively; sounds that had become all too familiar during his time as a pet.  
  
In the end, it was Kyle who ended up shifting Tony onto his left side, steadying him with his strong hands.  
  
Mark, meanwhile, uncuffed Tony's ankles, then bent his right leg at the knee. Tony allowed himself to be manipulated without protest. He knew better than to put up a fight or try to run. He knew his place, and allowed himself to be posed like the baby doll that he was.  
  
Tony heard a cap being flipped, and then the sound of something being squeezed out of a tube. He felt a wave of relief wash over him. Would be be lubed this time? He'd grown so accustomed to rough, dry fucks, he never imagined Mark would make an effort to make him more comfortable.  
  
A moment later, two lubed fingers entered him; shoving and twisting. Only just barely lubing him up. Mark then withdrew his fingers, replacing them soon after with a slicked nozzle.  
  
Tony felt his body fill with warm liquid, and fresh panic set in as he realized what was happening. Mark was always looking for ways to torture, violate and humiliate him, and an enema was certainly a sadist's trifecta.  
  
"Breathe through it, pet," Kyle said in a mock gentle tone, barely containing his amusement as he watched Tony's stomach balloon. "You'll only make it worse for yourself if you freak out."  
  
Heeding Kyle's warning, Tony breathed through the increased pain and pressure in his abdomen, wondering how much more he could possibly hold before he popped.  
  
Finally, it stopped. Mark hung the enema bag before coming to sit beside Kyle in front of Tony. Whimpering through each breath, Tony lay in agony, trying his hardest to ignore the urgent need to evacuate his bowels.  
  
Mark, meanwhile, rubbed Tony's swollen belly, painfully stimulating him. "That's it, piggy. Take your punishment" Mark cooed. "You're gonna hold all this in until I tell you to go. Don't let a single drop fall out of that fat ass of yours until I give you permission. You got that, pet?"  
  
At the moment, Tony was grateful that, as a pet, he was forbidden from speaking, as his entire concentration was now focused on keeping the fluid inside his body. He replied to Mark instead in the form of the helpless cries. These came naturally in this state, making Tony sound even more like the animal Mark had made him.  
  
"You're doing so well," Mark whispered in baby talk, running his hand up and down Tony's thigh. "And I know that as much as you want to go, you'll never disobey my orders. Because you know that I could always make things so much worse for you. Don't you? Don't you, my pet?"  
  
Tony simply cried through the pain and pressure in his body. He did know that Mark could and would make things worse for him. And it was that knowledge and fear that kept Tony obedient.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Tony wasn't sure how long he had been forced to wait for relief, filled up like a fleshy water balloon. But he was certain it was much longer than the time recommended for such things.  
  
Thankfully, Tony was able to hold it all in, not losing even a drop, until Kyle picked him up and placed him on the toilet.  
  
After that, of course, Mark and Kyle stood back and laughed uproariously as Tony groaned in relief, becoming cleansed from the inside out.  
  
It was an upsetting and humiliating experience. But then, that could be said about his entire life since becoming a pet.  
  
But now it was over. Mark sat leaning against the bathtub. Tony was curled up in Mark's lap, his head resting against Mark's shoulder as the younger man ran his fingers through Tony's hair, laying soft kisses upon his head and neck.  
  
"You were such a brave boy, accepting your punishment like you knew you should," Mark cooed, rocking Tony. "I hope you've learned your lesson now."  
  
Tony nuzzled into Mark's neck; a silent expression of affirmation that he hoped Mark would understand.  
  
"Good...that's good," Mark whispered, letting his hand slide down between Tony's legs and grabbing his flaccid penis. "Because your life doesn't have to be pain. If you obey me, if you let me use your body for my pleasure, I can make you feel so good!  
  
Mark was now furiously pumping Tony's shaft, smirking as the older man's member grew hard in his hand.  
  
Tony hated himself as he thrust his hips up in need. Why was he allowing himself to feel pleasure at Mark's touch? The man abducted him, condemning him to life as a fuck toy. Tony should have more self respect than this!  
  
But he couldn't exactly fight it either. If Mark saw Tony's body protest at his touch, that would only mean more pain. Tony knew that his best bet would be to just go along with it. He could be Mark's pet. As long as embracing that role meant he wouldn't be painfully punished anymore, he could do it.  
  
Eyes closed, lost in the touch of the man who owned him, Tony was taken by surprise when he felt Mark slip the cock ring on him. Whining in need, he looked up to see Mark and Kyle smirking derisively at him.  
  
"But today, it's your job to make us feel good!" Mark said, rolling Tony out of his lap. "Sit!"  
  
Tony sat up into a kneeling position, trying not to let his fear control him. _"Just do what you're told, and Mark will take care of you,"_ he reminded himself.  
  
"You want to make me happy, don't you, piggy?" Mark asked, petting Tony's head. "You want to be a good boy?"  
  
Tony mewled, leaning into the touch.  
  
"And do you want to show me how thankful you are to me for feeding you, cleaning you, and keeping that hole of yours filled with my spunk?"  
  
Tony whined, nuzzling his face into Mark's hand.  
  
"Then you won't mind sharing your gratitude with Kyle? He put this roof over our heads and carries you around, after all."  
  
Tony struggled to his hands and knees, crawled over to Kyle, kneeled in front of him, leaned forward as far as he could, and put his forehead to the floor. Showing his subservience would keep him safe. And if he had to go a little overboard in his displays, maybe they would spare him further pain and humiliation. Well, at least further pain. He had to be realistic, after all.  
  
"I think all that training is finally paying off!" Kyle laughed. "With a little more time, he just might become the perfect pet for you!"  
  
"You might be right," Mark agreed, before looking down and lightly tugging at Tony's leash. "Up, pig!" he ordered.  
  
Tony obeyed, hating that he was degrading himself like this. But Mark and Kyle seemed to like what he was doing, and happy Masters meant a more tolerable existence.  
  
Tony felt a nervous twinge in his stomach as he watched Mark and Kyle undress. Why were they both taking off their clothes? Kyle had said before that he had no interest in fucking Tony. Had something changed? What did they have planned for him?  
  
Once his Masters were both naked, Mark removed Tony's collar and his handcuffs. Kyle then picked Tony up and started to deposit him into the tub, but he stopped mid toss, pulling Tony up close to his chest and cradling him in his arms. Tony couldn't help but to breathe in the musky, slightly sweet smell as his cheek rested on Kyle's shoulder. Tony had never been this intimate with the very large man before. And he had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot more intimate.  
  
"I think that diet you've got piggy on is working," Kyle said approvingly, bouncing Tony slightly. "He's a lot lighter now. We might not be able to call him 'pig' for very much longer."  
  
_"'Diet'? Yeah, right!"_ Tony thought, knowing better than to roll his eyes. His "diet" kept him just teetering on the brink of starvation. Oh sure, Mark gave him drinks of water, which he was given through a straw, or leftover scraps of food, which he either ate from Mark's hand, or a dog dish on the floor. Just enough food to keep him alive, but weak. The truth was, at this point, Tony couldn't fight back or run away even if he wanted to. He just didn't have the strength or energy anymore.  
  
"As long as I can make him squeal, he'll always be my little piggy," Mark laughed.  
  
"Hate to break it to you, Mark, but he won't be doing any squealing this time," Kyle told his friend, casually tossing Tony in the tub. "Good little piggies don't squeal with their mouth full."  
  
Tony's eyes widened, and he couldn't stop the frightened gasp that escaped his lips. Kyle had no interested in _fucking_ him, but...  
  
_"No.."_ Tony thought, mortified. _"I'm gonna be stuffed in both ends!"_  
  
Mark and Kyle didn't miss Tony's reaction, and their dark, mocking laughter did nothing to calm his nerves as they positioned him onto his hands and knees.  
  
Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and gave himself a silent reminder.  
  
_"Just do what you're told...Just do what you're told..."_  
  
Tony was startled out of his unspoken mantra by Mark's firm touch on his hips. Instinctively, he thrust his ass back into the touch; not so much _wanting_ as as _accepting_ it.  
  
"You see that, Kyle?" Mark laughed. "Piggy likes it! He's practically begging me to fuck him!"  
  
Kyle chuckled, grabbing Tony firmly by the hair and nudging his cock against Tony's lips. "Mark keeps telling me how good you are with that mouth of yours. I want to find out for myself. So open up, piggy!"  
  
The moment Kyle barked his command, Mark's unlubed cock entered Tony with a painful thrust. Tony's mouth opened into a pained scream, and Kyle used the opportunity to shove his dick inside, silencing the older man.  
  
"Come on, pig. Work your magic on me!" Kyle ordered.  
  
Mark, meanwhile, remained unmoving; his hands steadying Tony's hips as his cock remained pressed against Tony's prostate.  
  
Tony tried to work around the distraction. He had to. He had no choice. First, he licked down the underside of Kyle's shaft. Next, he made teasing circles around the tip, before dipping into the slit. As he did so, he could taste a bit of pre cum leaking out. All the while, Kyle groaned and swore in pleasure.  
  
"Ugh! My balls, pig...Lick my balls..."  
  
Swallowing Kyle whole, Tony did as he was told. His tongue darted out, pressing against Kyle's sack. With Kyle's cock pushed all the way back into Tony's throat, He could feel it tighten as he began to choke, but he didn't stop. Not until Mark pulled out slightly, only to push himself forcefully back in.  
  
Meanwhile, Kyle started fucking Tony's throat, holding his head in place as Mark did the same to his hips.  
  
It was as Tony had feared. He was being fucked in both ends. His confined cock ached and throbbed, screaming for release. He felt his knees buckle, threatening to give out from under him. The only things keeping him steady were the hands of his Masters.  
  
Tony blinked back tears, and somewhere behind the screaming in his mind, he understood that obeying his Masters only meant _less_ pain and punishment, not an _absence_ of it.  
  
Tony felt himself floating somewhere between pain and pleasure as Mark milked his prostate with every thrust, while Kyle stretched his mouth wide, making his throat rough from the friction.  
  
His Master's satisfied moans growing in time with their cocks, Tony soon felt himself become completely filled with their cum. Kyle's taste - salty and musky, not so different from Mark's - coated his throat. He pulled out slowly, laughing as Tony sputtered and coughed.  
  
Mark then slowly extracted himself from Tony, lying down on top of the older man and lightly petting his arm. Tony moaned at the touch, trying his very best to sound aroused, rather than disgusted.  
  
_"If I'm a good boy, he won't hurt me. If I'm a good boy, he won't hurt me..."_  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
McGee sat at his kitchen table and booted up his laptop, sighing heavily. He wasn't off the clock. Not by a long shot. It had been over two months since Tony went missing, and the team had just as much information now as they did when the investigation started. Even Jennifer Ellsworth reaching out her her brother seemed to have yielded no results.  
  
In the meantime, other cases were coming in, and Gibbs was none too happy to have them cut into the efforts in looking for Tony. And whatever issues Gibbs had with Ziva only seemed to be getting worse the longer Tony was gone.  
  
At the moment, McGee just needed to take his work somewhere where he could actually concentrate on it, without the hostility and tension of the office driving him to distraction.  
  
As McGee was booting up his laptop, his phone rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, he felt a twinge of hope as he saw a North Carolina number on the caller ID.  
  
"Special Agent McGee," he answered.  
  
_"Hi. This is Jennifer Ellsworth."_ The young woman's voice was quivering and breathy, as if she were on the verge of a panic attack. _"I'm sorry it's taken such a long time, but I finally have some information on my brother. It took him a few weeks to respond to my friend request, but it finally happened. Since then we've mostly communicated by email. But I wasn't able to get any useful information for you until now."  
_  
"Did he say anything that might indicate he has Tony?" McGee asked, unable to stop his own voice from shaking slightly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.  
  
_"He didn't just indicate. He confirmed,"_ Jennifer answered. _"For awhile, we were just catching up. But today he sent me a picture...it was of Tony."_ A single, choked sob escaped Jennifer, as she struggled to keep it together long enough to pass the necessary information on to McGee.  
  
"Tony! He's alive then?" McGee asked, his heart pounding.  
  
_"He is, but...my brother is hurting him. I...I don't really want to talk about what I saw. Can I just forward you the email?"_  
  
"Of course." McGee was trying to sound as calm and reassuring as possible. Jennifer was clearly very upset and disturbed by what she had seen. But McGee knew that for him, those feelings would be far worse. Deciding time was of the essence, he put Jennifer on speaker phone so that he could compose a message for the team, passing on any new information as he received it.  
  
_"I've also made plans to come visit my brother later today. I figured I could lead you right to him. Plus, I want to confront him about what he's done."_ There was grief and anger in Jennifer's voice, as she was now aware of the cruelty in her brother's heart.  
  
"How about you send me the address instead. We can get Tony out of there today, arrest your brother, and you can confront him after the interrogation," McGee suggested. He didn't want to waste any time, and he was certain Gibbs wouldn't want to either.  
  
_"I just hope you find Tony in time. I'll see you soon, Special Agent McGee. Goodbye."_  
  
"Goodbye, Jennifer." Hanging up, McGee opened his email to find the forwarded message already in his inbox.  
  
_Fwd: Tony DiNozzo can't hurt our family anymore._  
  
Opening the message, McGee felt his stomach twist into anxious knots. He clicked on the attached file, and despite the fact that he had prepared for the worst, what he saw was still far worse than he ever could have imagined.  
  
Tony was completely naked, save for a dog collar around his neck and cuffs on his wrists and ankles, all of which secured him to a wall. His head and body slumped forward, it was clear that Tony's restraints were the only things keeping him upright.  
  
Tony was thin. Alarmingly thin. McGee guessed he'd lost around 40 to 50 pounds during his captivity. His face was gaunt, and his ribs poked out prominently. His body was painted in cuts, bruises and welts, coloring him in varying hues of blue, purple and red.  
  
Most disturbing, however, was the dead, vacant look in Tony's eyes. As if any and all signs of life had been extinguished; his spirit completely destroyed.  
  
McGee didn't bother to fight the tears that now flowed freely from his eyes. It didn't really matter that Tony was still breathing. Life as he'd known it was over. Whatever Mark was doing to Tony, it would be nearly impossible to bring him back from it.  
  
Looking at the image of his dear friend staring back at him, battered and defeated, alive, but not living, McGee prayed that one day the light would return to Tony's eyes.


	5. Strangers Familiar

 

Tony lay face down across Mark's lap on the couch in the finished basement, just a few feet away from where he had been hung from the ceiling and whipped. Now, the younger man gently applied ointment to the bloody, oozing welts on his pig's back.  
  
"I wish I didn't have to discipline you so much," Mark commented, massaging the healing salve onto Tony's tender flesh. "But you're such a stupid little piggy. You can never learn your lesson the first time."  
  
Tony whimpered, ashamed, burying his face in the couch cushion. Mark was right, of course. Tony knew the rule about his feedings. He wasn't allowed to eat until Mark permitted it. Some days, he had been forced to just sit and stare at the food, listening to his stomach growl for several minutes, until Mark finally let him eat.  
  
And Tony accepted that. He would do anything that his Master asked of him. But that day, Tony had been so mad with hunger, that by the time Mark placed his bowl on the floor, crawling over to eat from it came as naturally as breathing.  
  
As a consequence, Mark dumped Tony's slop in the trash while he watched, and followed it up with the beating he was now recovering from.  
  
Tony hoped that his Master could forgive him for his unacceptable behavior. He knew he would need to be better.  
  
"Don't worry about it, pig," Mark said casually. "You're just a dumb animal." The ointment now applied, Mark let his hand slide down into Tony's crack, sneaking a finger into his entrance. "That's why I'm here. To train you to be a better pet."  
  
Mark removed his finger from Tony as quickly as he had inserted it, and the pig whined in need, instinctually raising his bottom in offering. Laughing at Tony's response, Mark gave him a reassuring pat on the ass.  
  
Sliding out from under Tony, Mark picked up his pet, gently placing him face down on the floor. Tony wept with gratitude. He was undeserving of such gentle contact after his repeated stupidity. He should have just been tossed to the ground like the trash that he was.  
  
Tony let Mark manipulate his body; placing a couple of pillows under his midsection, raising his ass to the sky. Kicking Tony's legs apart, the pet could practically feel his Master's gaze burning into his worthless bottom. Tony would soon be filled by the man who owned him, and the sexual contact was a soothing alternative to the other ways he could be touched.  
  
Mark teased Tony's opening for just a moment before quickly inserting not one, but two lubed fingers. _"Yes!"_ Tony thought, tears streaming down his face. _"Master is so kind to prepare me."_ Tony was rarely given such comforts.  
  
Mark withdrew his fingers, wiping them off on Tony's thigh. "That's enough of that. I don't want you too loose!" he laughed, grabbing Tony's hips and lining himself up to the pig's hole.  
  
Squealing at the familiar push, Tony welcomed the intrusion. This was one thing - possibly the only thing - that he was good at; being a hole for Mark to stuff. Whether it was his mouth or his ass, Tony knew just how to hug and tease his Master's cock. He contracted and relaxed his muscles with precision, working entirely on instinct. He didn't even need to think about it, which was a good thing, since thinking wasn't his strong suit. It was like Mark had said; his ass was made to be fucked.  
  
Well, at least he was good for something.  
  
Mark thrust in ever deeper, hitting Tony's prostate every time. Tony could feel his member swell painfully. He wanted to cum so badly. But the metal cock cage he wore prevented any relief. He didn't deserve such pleasures anyway. This was all for his Master's enjoyment, not his own. Tony was nothing more than a hole to be fucked.  
  
As his master filled him, Tony let out an animalistic yowl. Trapped between pain and pleasure. Aching for release that would never come.  
  
Lying in a trembling heap, Tony felt his Master's body cover him like a warm blanket; steadying him. Grounding him. Tony was just beginning to settle into the offered comfort when the young man peeled himself off of his old pig.  
  
"Stay put!" Mark ordered. "And don't let a drop of cum spill from you!"  
  
Tony obeyed, closing his eyes and clenching his bottom. Waiting for his Master.  
  
Mark said nothing upon his return. But Tony could hear a cap being flipped open, and the familiar squeeze of lube being squirted out of a tube.  
  
"I have a present for you, my pet," Mark said sweetly, as he pushed something into Tony; a butt plug; long, wide and heavy. Probably made of some kind of metal. It stretched Tony's entrance wide before being swallowed up, its wide base settling snugly against Tony's ass. There was no way Tony would be able to move - or lay still for that matter - without feeling it. The object continuously milked his prostate, intensifying his sweet torture. And it kept him full; his Master's essence locked safe inside him.  
  
"There we go." Mark pressed hard on the base of the butt plug, chuckling as Tony shivered and moaned his response. "This will serve as a reminder."  
  
Mark scooped Tony up into his his arms, letting the pig cling to him like a child, nuzzling into his neck.  
  
"A reminder that you belong to me."  
  
Tony mewled contentedly, snuggling close as his owner cradled him.  
  
_"I belong."_  
  
Breathing in the musky smell of the man holding him, Tony felt oddly cared for. After a life of rejection and abandonment, he'd finally found his home! This knowledge gave him comfort as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
"Freeze! Federal agents!"  
  
Tony jolted into wakefulness. Still cradled in his Master's arms, he clung to the younger man, frightened by the cacophony of voices.  
  
"Let him go, Ellsworth!"  
  
An older man, with silver hair and steely blue eyes, was pointing a gun at them and shouting. Tony felt his body drop to the floor as a younger man came up behind his Master, yelling something about "kidnapping a federal agent."  
  
Both men wore dark blue jackets and baseball caps that said "NCIS" on them.  
The younger of the two newcomers yanked Mark to his feet. Looking up at them from his place on the floor, Tony saw that his Master was wearing cuffs on his wrists, similar to the ones he sometimes made Tony wear.  
  
Were these strangers here to play? Would they want to play with him? Why was everyone shouting? They sounded so angry. It terrified Tony.  
  
Tony watched as Mark was led away, and suddenly found himself paralyzed by panic. Where were these men taking his Master? Would he be coming back? Who was Tony supposed to obey now? Who was going to teach him how to behave? Tony wasn't smart enough to make decisions on his own. He needed someone to think for him. Who would that be now?  
  
Overwhelmed by the chaos, Tony felt as though he were sinking; the only world he knew turned inside out before him.  
  
Nearly blinded by tears, Tony choked on a sob as he found himself alone with the silver haired man. He seemed familiar somehow, but Tony struggled to place him. Had they been friends once?  
  
Looking Tony over, the man's angry blue eyes suddenly softened into an expression of horror.  
  
"My God, Tony! What did that sick S.O.B do to you?" the man asked, reaching down to touch Tony's face.  
  
Tony flinched away at the contact, curling himself up as small as he could manage.  
  
"Hey." The man gently persisted, placing a calming hand on Tony's shoulder. "It's over. We found you. You're safe now."  
  
Slowly turning his gaze up towards the older man, Tony studied his face. He didn't seem to have any bad intentions, but Tony honestly didn't know what to make of him.  
  
"Come on." The man reached his hand down for Tony's. "Let's get you off of this cold floor."  
  
Tony curled back in on himself again as the man reached to pick him up.  
  
"It's okay, Tony," the man reassured him. "I just want to get you onto the couch to keep you comfortable until the ambulance comes for you. Can you stand on your own?"  
  
Tony's lower lip trembled, and he hid his face in his hands. He couldn't stand up. He wasn't allowed. Pigs don't stand.  
  
"Okay. Don't worry about it, Tony. I'll help you up, if you'll let me."  
  
Once again turning his gaze to the older man, Tony gave him a tentative look. He actually seemed worried. Maybe he wasn't such a bad man after all. Even if he was, Tony knew it would be in his best interest to do what he was told. Reaching up to indicate his consent, he let the man pick him up and place him on the couch.  
  
"I shouldn't be able to lift you that easily," the man the mournfully, more to himself than Tony, and Tony found himself wondering what he had done to upset him. Would he be punished for it?  
  
But before Tony had a chance to think too much about it, the man took a blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over him, wrapping him snugly.  
  
Tony wriggled into the warmth in spite of himself. This blanket wasn't his. Only Master Mark or Master Kyle ever used it. Tony wasn't allowed such comforts. But it felt so nice, Tony couldn't help but to whimper in contentment; a sound that caused the older man to laugh. Not the cruel, mocking laughter of his Masters. This laughter seemed affectionate and kind.  
  
Tony was never very good at reading humans, and experience had taught him that any offered comfort could quickly be turned into pain. That was what made this whole situation so confusing for him. For the first time he could remember, someone was with him who seemed genuinely concerned for his well being.  
  
A light tap to the head pulled Tony out of his thoughts. It didn't hurt. Not in the least. It was just enough to get his attention.  
  
Looking up into the blue eyes of the man who sat beside him, Tony could swear he saw sadness in them as they gazed upon him.  
  
"You don't need to be afraid. Not anymore."  
  
For whatever reason, in spite of what experience had taught him, Tony believed the man. And as a strong, calloused hand wrapped around his own thin, frail hand, Tony found himself crying tears he hadn't realized he'd been holding back.


	6. What's Left Of Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I do my fair share of research when I write, and I strive for accuracy, I'm not a doctor. So if this chapter isn't perfect, please know that I did my best. The same can be said about the investigative aspect of things. I'm better at writing emotions, which is what this story is ultimately going to be about. Forgive any slip ups along the way. They are unintentional.

 

Gibbs paced the hospital waiting room, feeling helpless. The past few hours had felt like some unimaginable nightmare. Any hope he might have been holding on to was shattered when he saw his broken agent. Gibbs swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he recalled Tony's abused and emaciated form curled up in Mark Ellsworth's lap, perfectly docile. What had Tony endured during his captivity to put him in that state?  
  
The ringing of Gibbs' phone jolted him back into the present. Seeing that it was McGee, he hoped that the young agent would be able to provide him with some answers.  
  
"Yeah, McGee. Whatta ya got?" Gibbs asked, getting right to the point.  
  
_"Boss, the house where Ellsworth was keeping Tony belongs to the big guy we brought in, Kyle Taylor. Owns a plumbing business in Silver Spring,"_ McGee informed him. _"We're heading back to process the crime scene now."_  
  
"Good," Gibbs grunted his approval. "What were you able to get out of Ellsworth and Taylor?"  
  
_"Well, nothing yet, boss. We figured you'd want to interrogate them yourself."_  
  
"Yeah. You figured right," Gibbs chuckled darkly. Once he had news of Tony's condition, and a better idea of what kind of hell he'd been put through, he was going to come at Ellsworth and Taylor with all he had!  
  
_"How is Tony?"_ McGee asked worriedly.  
  
"Still no word," Gibbs told him. "I'll call as soon as I know something. Be sure everyone knows that."  
  
And by "everyone", he meant Abby, who had already called six times since Tony had been rescued.  
  
_"Got it. Want me to call you once we finish at the house?"_  
  
"Nah. Just wait for my call." He hung up, put his phone in his pocket and stared up at the TV in the corner of the room, hoping the talk show that was playing would offer him some kind of distraction.  
  
But it was no use. Gibbs kept replaying his last encounter with Tony before the kidnapping. The hurt in Tony's eyes was palpable. Guilt washed over Gibbs as he realized that Tony's loyalty to his teammates had been returned with deception and disrespect. How many times had Tony put his own life on the line for the team? How many times had he been there to clean up Gibbs' mess? If Gibbs were being honest with himself, there were countless occasions when Tony acted a far better agent than he had. Gibbs was lucky to have Tony on his team. Lucky, and undeserving.  
  
Gibbs wished he'd had the words to express his regret to Tony. But he had no good explanation, and was too proud to apologize.  
  
Now, Gibbs cursed his pride, worrying that Tony might never come back from the damage that had been inflicted upon his psyche.  
  
"Jethro!"  
  
Gibbs turned to see Ducky approaching him, a cup in each hand.  
  
"Here," the Scotsman said, handing Gibbs the cup in his left hand. "A little pick me up. I know that hospital coffee is less than ideal. And honestly, this poor excuse for tea is an insult to the beverage." He scowled at his cup with disapproval. "But I didn't think you'd want to venture off while waiting for news on Anthony.  
  
"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs sighed, taking a seat beside Ducky in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. "Thanks for everything."  
  
Ducky put a reassuring hand on Gibbs' arm, and the two old friends sat in silence. The usually talkative M.E. seemed to know that at this time, words would offer no comfort. Not until they had more information to work with.  
  
"Special Agent Gibbs! Dr. Mallard!"  
  
A tall, handsome Asian American man in his 40s approached them, a look of concern on his face. "I'm Dr. Yan, one of the doctors treating Special Agent DiNozzo."  
  
"How is Tony?" Gibbs asked, his exhausted voice cracking with emotion.  
  
"Why don't you see for yourself?" the doctor answered with a sad smile.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Gibbs and Ducky looked down sadly at the sleeping agent. Tony was practically skin and bones. His face and body were covered in cuts, bruises and burns. A nasal cannula supplied him with oxygen. An IV dripped into his left arm. A catheter bag could be seen peeking out from beneath the blankets, collecting Tony's urine. He looked so small and frail, as if he could break at the slightest touch.  
  
"He'll be all right, won't he?" Gibbs asked desperately.  
  
Dr. Yan sighed, running a hand through his short black hair. "He'll most likely recover from his physical injuries, but it will take time. He's dehydrated, and severely malnourished, which has led to muscle weakness and brittle bones. Bruising around his neck also suggests that Tony has been strangled repeatedly, which has done no favors for his already compromised lungs. And much of the scarring on his skin will probably be permanent. There's also..." The doctor's voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, staring at Tony.  
  
"Spit it out, doc!" Gibbs snapped impatiently.  
  
Dr. Yan nodded, a look of patient understanding in his eyes.  
  
"Tony had an anal abscess, most likely caused by repeated anal trauma. I drained it, and he's receiving antibiotics through an IV, which should clear it away. But he's going to need to soak it a few times a day. In his current state, he's going to need help with that. Naturally, we've also tested for any possible STDs. We'll inform you as soon as we know anything, of course."  
  
Gibbs slumped into a chair beside Tony's bed, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. "What about his mind? When we found Tony...it was like he didn't recognize me."  
  
Leaning against the window sill, Dr. Yan set his clipboard down on it and crossed his arms. "We found no physical signs of injury to Tony's brain. However, given all that he's endured, psychological trauma is to be expected." The doctor pursed his lips and looked down. "I'm sorry, but this might be a more challenging recovery. I'll be able to tell you more when Tony is awake and alert."  
  
Gibbs crossed his arms and sat back. "I'm stayin'. I want to be here when Tony wakes up."  
  
The two doctors exchanged a look, Ducky's expression telling the younger man there was no arguing once Gibbs had made up his mind.  
  
"Okay," Dr. Yan nodded. "Tony's lucky to have you looking out for him." He then turned to Ducky. "Dr. Mallard? If you'll come with me?"  
  
"Of course." Ducky followed Dr. Yan out, turning around once he reached the doorway. "Call me as soon as Tony wakes."  
  
"I will," Gibbs promised with a sad smile.  
  
Watching his friend depart, Gibbs closed his eyes, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. He knew that Dr. Yan was taking Ducky to collect the written and photographic documentation of every injury; every violation visible on Tony. He hoped to God they at least had the compassion to sedate Tony when they poked and prodded at him. Tony may have gotten used to being violated, but that didn't mean he would be any less scared in a new situation, being touched by a new set of hands.  
  
He also knew that Ducky would be taking evidence back to Abby; DNA removed from Tony's body belonging to Mark Ellsworth and, most likely, also Kyle Taylor.  
  
Ducky would also be bringing back the _objects_ removed from Tony's body. Gibbs shuddered at the memory of the cock cage covering Tony's swollen groin, and the base of the butt plug peeking out of his bottom.  
  
Gibbs felt anger boil inside of him at the thought of the numerous violations and humiliations Tony must have suffered. He was glad that he'd managed to convince Abby to stay back for the time being. While he could reign in his anger for the sake of keeping Tony calm and settled, Abby's emotions were much more difficult to control.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Agitated whimpers woke Gibbs from a slumber he hadn't even remembered falling into. He opened his eyes to see Tony looking up, eyes darting around the room. He looked scared and confused.  
  
Gibbs shot up out of the chair and rushed to Tony's side, gazing down at the frightened man in the bed. Tony looked back up at him with a searching expression, seeming unsure what to make of him.  
  
"Tony, it's okay. You're in the hospital," Gibbs said softly, brushing his hand along Tony's cheek. "The people here are gonna help you get better. Do you understand me?"  
  
Tony's eyes widened, his breath speeding up, as if he were on the verge of a panic attack.  
  
"Shh...I didn't mean to upset you, Tony. Try and relax..." Gibbs soothed, cupping the younger man's cheek with one hand, and gently rubbing his arm with the other. Once Tony's breathing became more calm and even, he continued.  
  
"I know you're scared, but you don't need to be. Do you remember who I am?"  
  
Tony gave Gibbs a vacant look, turned away and whined in frustration.  
  
It took every ounce of self control Gibbs possessed to hold it together. Tony appeared to have no recollection of who Gibbs was. Sadder still, Tony probably had very little awareness of himself. The formerly upbeat, talkative, funny (though Gibbs had never admitted as much) agent had been reduced to a weak, sickly, frightened mute. Tony seemed like a stranger to Gibbs. But he knew it was nothing compared to how strange and frightening everyone must seem to Tony.  
  
"Tony?" Gibbs gently turned Tony's face to look at him once again. "You may not remember me, but I'm your friend. I took you away from the people that hurt you. You remember?"  
  
Tony's lower lip trembled and his eyes watered as a small sob escaped. He looked around, as if to confirm his tormentors were really gone.  
  
"You're safe here, Tony," Gibbs reassured him, taking Tony's skeletal hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Mark and Kyle are gonna be locked up for a long time. They won't be able to hurt you - or anyone else - again."  
  
A ghost of a smile flickered across Tony's lips, and he squeezed Gibbs' hand right back; a squeeze so weak, Gibbs barely felt it. But it communicated trust. Tony felt safe with Gibbs.  
  
"I'm gonna page the nurse for you now," Gibbs informed Tony, hitting the "call" button with his free hand. "Remember, she's here to help you too. Everyone you meet here only wants to take care of you."  
  
Though Tony continued to stare at Gibbs, his expression equal parts gratitude and curiosity, he gave no indication that he'd actually understood a word Gibbs had said. And when the nurse entered, he turned his face away and shut his eyes tightly, as if expecting pain.  
  
"Tony? Remember what I said," Gibbs reminded him. "No one here is gonna hurt you."  
  
Slowly, Tony turned his head and opened his eyes. At first his gaze remained turned downward. But slowly, his eyes lifted, examining the woman. She appeared to be in her late 20s; short and stocky, with long, blond hair pulled up into a ponytail.  
  
"Hello, Tony. It's good to see you awake," she said warmly. "I'm just going to check your vitals real quick, okay? After that, I can get you some juice, if you like."  
  
"How does that sound?" Gibbs asked, resting a hand on Tony's shoulder. "You feelin' thirsty?"  
  
Tony swallowed and licked his lips, staring at Gibbs with pleading green eyes.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Gibbs chuckled. "Tony, I need to step out for a minute to make a phone call. You have some friends who are very worried about you. I think they'd like to know you're awake."  
  
Tony said nothing. He just lay there, looking uncertain.  
  
"I'll just be outside this door, and I'll be back in a few minutes. I promise. 'Til then, nurse Lauren will keep you safe." Gibbs lightly squeezed Tony's arm for added assurance.  
  
Tony smiled, his mind apparently at ease. Gibbs returned the smile, feeling a sad tug at his heart as he realized just how child-like Tony appeared.  
  
Walking out into the hallway, Gibbs recalled the faint glimmer of trust present in Tony's eyes. He knew that, had Tony remembered him, he wouldn't be so trusting.


	7. A Blank Canvass

 

"Hey, Abby," McGee said tiredly, entering the lab. "I just..." his voice trailed off as he saw the collected evidence on the table; some spread out, some still boxed up. Cuffs, collars, a blindfold, earplugs, whips, various sex toys, enemas, diapers and candles.  
  
McGee swallowed, fighting hard to keep his emotions in check. Every one of these items had been used on Tony at some point. With some items, their purpose was clear. With others, how they were used was left almost entirely to Tim's imagination, which was almost more horrifying.  
  
"What is it, Tim?"  
  
McGee looked up at Abby, who stood unmoving at the other side if the table, a barely perceptible tremor running through her body. She projected a controlled calm; a thin veil barely concealing the storm of emotions behind it. Somehow, McGee found this even more disconcerting than her usual hugs, weeping and fast talking.  
  
"Yeah...uh...Gibbs said he'll be down to see you in a little while. I'm heading to the hospital now to meet him and visit with Tony."  
  
Abby nodded rapidly, twisting her hands together. "Tony will be all right, won't he?"  
  
McGee walked up to Abby, untangling her fidgeting hands and holding them tight. "I don't know, Abby. I'm sorry, but I can't promise you he'll ever get back to who he was. All we can do right now is be thankful he's still alive."  
  
Abby sniffled, her mask starting to crack. "How was he? When you saw him, how was he?"  
  
"Abby, I only saw him for a minute. I was kind of distracted arresting Ellsworth," McGee explained.  
  
"But you must have noticed something!" Abby insisted. "I need to know, Tim! Even if it's bad news, I...I just want to know how he is."  
  
McGee looked down, chewing his lip thoughtfully before responding.  
  
"It's like he's a blank canvass, Abby," McGee finally answered. "He seemed...innocent."  
  
"You mean like a baby?" Abby asked, eyes unconsciously drifting towards the diapers on the table.  
  
"I guess," McGee shrugged, feeling a little sick to his stomach as the realization hit him that Abby's assessment just might be correct. "Like I said, I only saw him for a minute, so -"  
  
"No..." Abby shook her head, finally allowing the tears to fall. Her face nuzzling into McGee's chest.  
  
McGee rubbed soothing circles on Abby's back, not caring that she was smearing mascara all over his clean white shirt. Truth be told, if it weren't for the fact that he felt he needed to be the strong one now, he'd be crying too.  
  
"What's gonna happen to Tony now?" Abby asked, her voice muffled.  
  
"I don't know," McGee replied, giving Abby a soft kiss on top of her head. "But he's gonna need a lot of help. We need to be strong for him, Abby."  
  
Abby nodded into McGee's chest before pulling back and giving his arms a tight squeeze.  
  
"Then go see him, Timmy! And tell Gibbs to hurry back here so he can go and tear those monsters each a new asshole!"  
  
"You got it, Abby," McGee said with a sad smile, reaching in for one last hug.  
_  
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
"Can I come in?" McGee asked cheerfully, knocking on the door frame of Tony's room.  
  
Almost immediately, McGee regretted knocking, as Tony's breath hitched into hiccuped whimpers, and his body rocked from side to side.  
  
"Shh...don't be afraid, Tony." Gibbs soothed, gently rubbing along Tony's arm with one hand, while motioning for McGee to enter with the other. "This is Tim, and he's a friend."  
  
Tony looked up at McGee. As watery green eyes focused, fear and suspicion seemed to change to a tentative trust. Perhaps Tony recognized McGee as the man who took Mark Ellsworth away in handcuffs.  
  
"Hey, Tony," McGee greeted softly, so as not to upset his friend by coming on too strong. "Gibbs has asked me to stay with you while he takes care of a few things."  
  
"It's okay, Tony," Gibbs reassured him, giving McGee a sideways hug; an uncharacteristic gesture that surprised McGee. "Tim will keep you safe. I trust him, and you can too."  
  
Tony's lips turned up into a faint smile as he reached out his slender hand, weakly grasping at air until McGee laced their fingers together. McGee tried to hide the horror he felt as their hands touched. Tony really was skin and bones, and his gaunt, sunken features, looking at the world with a child-like uncertainty reminded McGee just how helpless he was.  
  
Gibbs placed his own hand over Tony and McGee's, as if to reinforce the established bond of trust between the three of them. This seemed to work, as Tony's breathing steadied, and his smile now seemed more genuine.  
  
"I gotta go now," Gibbs said, giving their hands a final pat. "I'll be back later, Tony. Tim will be here to take care of you until then."  
  
Tony let out a weak moan, looking from Gibbs to McGee with a smile.  
  
McGee looked down fondly at Tony before turning to face Gibbs. "I'll call you if anything comes up."  
  
Gibbs nodded appreciatively. "I'll be back tonight."  
  
"Bye, boss."  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
A few minutes later, a nurse entered with some food and set it on a tray table near the bed.  
  
"You might want to start with the Jello," the nurse told Tony. "See what your stomach can take before trying anything heavier."  
  
Though his face was turned towards the nurse, Tony's eyes were fixed on the ceiling.  
  
"Thank you," McGee answered for Tony.  
  
"Sure." The nurse gave a sympathetic smile, then departed.  
  
"Tony?" McGee waited until his friend's eyes were focused on him before he continued. "I'm gonna sit you up now, okay? The bed will move a little. Don't be scared.  
  
McGee didn't know if the warning was really necessary, but given Tony's mental state, he didn't want to take any chances.  
  
Once Tony was upright, McGee positioned the tray table over his lap and lifted off the lid. On the tray was some apple juice, Jello, mac and cheese, green beans and mashed potatoes. None of it looked particularly appetizing. The mac and cheese looked gritty, the green beans seemed mushy, and the gravy on the potatoes had an odd smell.  
  
"All right, Tony. How about we start you off with some Jello," McGee said, peeling back the foil. Taking the plastic spoon out of its wrapping, McGee placed the spoon in front of Tony and waited for his friend to start eating.  
  
Tony stared helplessly from the tray to McGee, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled for breath.  
  
Trying his best to remain calm and think of what might be upsetting Tony, McGee thought back to the evidence he and Ziva collected. The dog dish! Of course! Tony had been treated like an animal during his captivity. He probably didn't think he was allowed to feed himself - unless he was shoving his face into a bowl of food, which McGee would not let happen!  
  
Standing up, McGee leaned over, pressing his forehead to Tony's and holding the older man's face between his hands.  
  
"Calm down, Tony," McGee cooed. "It's okay. Shh...It's okay, Tony. I'll feed you."  
  
It took a few minutes for Tony to finally calm down, but it happened. And once McGee felt Tony was out of danger, he sat back and began feeding him.  
  
McGee's heart clenched as he watched Tony accept the food like a little baby bird. Tony; the man who helped to shape McGee into the agent that he was. Who, despite the constant teasing over the years, was a fiercely loyal and devoted friend. If McGee were being honest with himself, he'd even go so far as to say that Tony was his best friend.  
  
Tony had always been so strong. He'd overcome so much! McGee always believed Tony could survive anything life threw his way and come out stronger than before.  
  
Yet here Tony was. So small, helpless and scared, with no recollection of the man that he was; or even that he was a man at all. Abby was right. At this moment, Tony really did remind him of a baby.  
  
As McGee took a napkin and wiped a bit of stray Jello off of Tony's chin, and Tony's eyes looked up and him with innocence and trust, McGee made a silent promise to his friend.  
  
_"We're gonna get you back, Tony. You might never be 100% again. But maybe you can at least stop being afraid. Maybe you can remember that you have friends who love you."_


	8. No Way Out Of This

 

Gibbs exited the elevator, pausing briefly to take a swig of coffee and put on his brave face. Now, more than ever, he needed to be the tough leader! But at the moment, it was so hard to keep from falling apart.  
  
Years flashed through his mind: Tony's courage and loyalty. His deceptively sharp mind, hidden behind a playful facade. The big, uplifting smile that could brighten any room.  
  
Then, gradually, that smile faded from view, replaced by the face of the scared child that Tony had become. Gibbs used to think the plague was the worst that could have happened to Tony. But compared to what he had just been through, that seemed like a walk in the park.  
  
  
Breathing through the heaviness in his chest, Gibbs reminded himself that now was not the time to blame himself for the many ways he had failed Tony. If he wanted to make things right, he needed to bring those who had hurt Tony to justice. He needed to come at them with everything he had, and see to it that they never saw the outside of a prison again for the rest of their miserable lives.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Gibbs stepped forward, making his way into the bullpen, where his longtime friend, the FBI's own Tobias Fornell , was working at Tony's desk.  
  
"Hey, Tobias," Gibbs greeted tiredly, handing Fornell the coffee in his other hand.  
  
"Oh, hey, Jethro." Fornell graciously accepted the offered beverage, refraining from his usual complaints about Gibbs' horrible taste in coffee, or the fact that he was offering it up black. "How is DiNutso?"  
  
"No better than when we found him, I'm afraid," Gibbs sighed, knowing that Fornell hadn't really gotten a good look at Tony when they found him in the house. He was too busy upstairs, arresting Kyle Taylor, then helping Tim and Ziva bring Taylor and Ellsworth into the Navy Yard. "They broke him, Tobias."  
  
Fornell stood, putting a firm, reassuring hand on Gibbs' arm. "And now _we_ are gonna break _them_!" he promised.  
  
Gibbs' blue eyes darkened with rage, focused on the mission at hand. This was no time to stand around feeling guilty. It was time to nail those bastards! Tony might never recover from his ordeal, but Gibbs would at least make sure those two scumbags paid dearly for what they did to him.  
  
Gibbs nodded to Fornell; a silent request for him to continue to with any new information he had come across.  
  
Fornell cleared his throat in acknowledgement of Gibbs, sitting back down and looking over the information on Tony's computer. "Turns out, those two have a history. When Mark Ellsworth was 17, he spent 6 months in the care of Walter and Debra Taylor. 25 year old Kyle was in trade school at the time, living with his parents to save money. Looks like that's when the two of them became close."  
  
"It would also appear that Mark has learned everything he knows from Kyle," Ziva added, standing up and moving to join Gibbs and Fornell. "Five years ago, his girlfriend, Monica Fielding, went missing. To this day, she has never been found. Last year, 16 year old Jamie Harris filed rape charges against Kyle. But the charges were soon dropped, Jamie claiming that she filed them out of anger, when Kyle rejected her after learning she was a minor."  
  
"Not likely," Gibbs snarled.  
  
"You are correct. It is not at all likely," Ziva said. "After I spoke with Mrs. Harris and told her what happened to Tony, she put me on the phone with Jamie, who then confessed that she only dropped the charges after Kyle threatened to do worse to her 11 year old sister."  
  
"Sick bastard," Fornell hissed under his breath.  
  
"What about Mark?" Gibbs asked, knuckles so white against the coffee cup, it was a miracle he hadn't crushed it; his anger visibly simmering beneath the surface. "Any criminal history?"  
  
"Before now, nothing. But I suspect he was saving these types of violations for Tony," Ziva surmised.  
  
Fornell nodded. "Seems these two have been stalking Tony awhile. Kyle started doing plumbing at O'Dowd's 2 years ago. Became good friends with the owner."  
  
"Bartenders recognized Tony as one of their regulars," Ziva added.  
  
"When I talked to the owner, he acted like he didn't know Tony," Gibbs fumed.  
  
Ziva shook her head . "That is a lie. Jamie Harris admitted to going there with Kyle the night she was raped."  
  
"Want me to bring him in for questioning?" Fornell offered.  
  
"We'll get to him later," Gibbs grumbled. " _After_ we deal with Ellsworth and Taylor!"  
  
"Let's do this!" Fornell motioned for Gibbs to lead the way, and the two men made their way to interrogation.  
  
"Would you like me to come with you?" Ziva asked, following close behind. "I can break them, you know!"  
  
Gibbs turned around, stopping in his tracks to give her an icy glare. "You've broken enough!"  
  
With that, he turned, briskly walking to catch up with Fornell, who was waiting a few steps ahead; leaving a speechless Ziva in his wake.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Kyle Taylor sat sleeping in interrogation, his head slumped forward, his cuffed hands resting in his lap. Sweat seeped through his pores, soaking his light blue t-shirt.  
  
"All right, Taylor! Wake up!" Gibbs ordered, pounding loudly on the table.  
  
"Wha-?" Kyle mumbled, his head wobbling slightly, before finally settling into an upright position.  
  
"Rise and shine, dirtbag," Fornell sneered, as he and Gibbs took a seat across from Kyle. "Have a nice nap?"  
  
"How long have I been in here?" Kyle asked sleepily, eyes finally focusing on the men across from him.  
  
Fornell shrugged. "Dunno. Three, four hours maybe?" he turned to Gibbs for confirmation.  
  
"Sounds about right," Gibbs nodded. "But then, I was at the hospital with Tony for some of that time, so I can't be sure," he added, giving Kyle a pointed look.  
  
"This is inhumane!" Kyle loudly protested. "Keeping me locked up in here without anything to eat or drink! It's, like, a million degrees in here! You trying to sweat me to death?"  
  
" 'Inhumane'? Oh, that's rich," Gibbs chuckled. "You hear that, Tobias? I guess he doesn't like being locked away in a strange place, helpless and at the mercy of others."  
  
"Imagine that!" Fornell laughed.  
  
Gibbs stood up and leaned over the table, until he was nose to nose with Kyle. "You'll stay here until you tell us what we wanna know!" he barked angrily.  
  
"What? About your agent? Look, I barely touched him. I was just helping a friend," Kyle said uncooperatively.  
  
"Really?" Gibbs made his way around the table, taking a seat in front of Kyle. "Because I think you made Mark the man he is. I think you taught him to hurt and control others through physical domination and psychological torture. Seeing your example all these years, he had to have learned a thing or two."  
  
"What example?" Kyle scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
"One of my agents talked to Jamie Harris. Jamie told her everything," Gibbs informed Kyle.  
  
"Still within the statute of limitations," Fornell added. "And while we're at it, why don't we go ahead and re-open the investigation into Monica Fielding's disappearance?"  
  
"Sounds good to me," Gibbs smirked.  
  
"Oh, one more thing. I brought in your buddy from O'Dowd's," Fornell bluffed. "He told me he never bothered to check for ID when you brought Jamie Fielding in for drinks, how he drugged her drink - "  
  
"And how he did the same to DiNozzo." Gibbs continued.  
  
"Disabling the cameras outside, and allowing easy access for you to help Mark load him into the back of your van," Fornell finished.  
  
Kyle huffed. "Fine! You got me! I had Todd drug your friend's drink. And yeah, you found him at my house, so I can't pretend I didn't know about it. And maybe I did take Jamie to O'Dowd's once or twice...But just for drinks! But you have no proof I killed Monica!"  
  
Gibbs and Fornell exchanged a look.  
  
" 'Killed'? Tobias, did you say anything about Monica Fielding being dead?"  
  
"I didn't!"  
  
Kyle's nostrils flared as he sighed loudly, slumping back in defeat.  
  
"Might as well get comfortable," Gibbs whispered into Kyle's ear, his tone giving the younger man visible chills. "You're gonna be here awhile."  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
It took a little time, but Gibbs and Fornell finally got Kyle Taylor to confess not only to the part he played in Tony's ordeal, but also the rape of Jamie Harris and the murder of Monica Fielding. He even told them where to find the body. There was no denying that threats, intimidation, and empty promises of deals or a lighter sentence were very powerful motivators. Especially when they came from an angry former marine who had just lost his best agent.  
  
After they'd finished with Kyle, Gibbs and Fornell stopped for coffee, while Gibbs called McGee to check on Tony. Apparently, there hadn't been much change since Gibbs had left the hospital. Tony had eaten a cup of Jello and drank about half a cup of broth. Now, he was fast asleep.  
  
Satisfied that Tony was all right, they returned to the Navy Yard, where Mark Ellsworth was still waiting, pacing, handcuffed, in interrogation.  
  
"Sit down!" Gibbs ordered, as he and Fornell entered the room.  
  
"You bring something for me to drink?" Mark asked, scowling as he sat. "I'm dying here!"  
  
"You can have some of my coffee," Fornell offered, placing it in front of him.  
  
Mark glared at the drink, then back up at Fornell.  
  
"Go on!" Fornell urged. "It's yours!"  
  
Without a word, Mark lifted his hands, displaying his cuffed wrists.  
  
"Oh yeah," Fornell chuckled. "There is that."  
  
"If you want, one of us can feed you a few sips," Gibbs offered, in an almost sing-song voice. "Would you like that? That's what you did to Tony, right? Only let him eat or drink when it was convenient for you?"  
  
"Forget it," Mark grumbled. "You know, you don't even need to bother with this interrogation. I did it. You caught me. And you know what? I'm not sorry. You can put me away for the rest of my life - "  
  
"Oh, we intend to!" Gibbs interrupted.  
  
"I don't even care," Mark shrugged indifferently. "I destroyed that old pig! I fucked him and I hurt him, until there was nothing left. That, Agent Gibbs, is enough for me."  
  
Mark sat back with a smug smirk, and it was all Gibbs could do not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Though apparently, his angry glare was enough, as Mark cocked his head knowingly.  
  
"He mentioned you, you know," Mark proceeded. "At the bar, before I took him home and made him my pet, Tony told me about the choice you were asked to make. The choice that he wasn't important enough to know about before you - "  
  
"That's enough," Gibbs warned, his tone low and threatening. He knew Mark was trying to get under his skin, and damn if it wasn't working!  
  
Mark chuckled. "You know, I think he was in love with you. I heard him scream your name once when I was fucking - "  
  
"I said 'enough'!!!" Gibbs roared, standing and banging on the table, so hard, the room shook.  
  
Mark looked up at Gibbs, that infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.  
  
Closing his eyes and taking a few calming deep breaths, Gibbs sat back down. This was a manipulation. It was what Mark was so good at. And for Tony's sake, Gibbs could not allow the little shit to get to him like this! While it was true that he was more emotionally invested in this than other cases, it would be a disservice to Tony to let Mark get the better of him.  
  
"It's okay, Jethro," Fornell whispered. "I got this. You take a moment, and join back in whenever you're ready."  
  
Gibbs nodded as he sat back down, thankful for his friend's support and understanding.  
  
"So, Mark," Fornell rested his arms on the table, leaning forward. "I hear you and Agent DiNutso have a bit of a history."  
  
"You could say that," Mark snorted."Pig ruined my life."  
  
"By arresting your brother? The one who raped and murdered your sister's best friend? By doing his job?"  
  
"He tore apart by family," Mark seethed, glaring up at Fornell. "First, he took Paul away. Then, he couldn't even keep my sister and me with the same foster families...after he promised he would! I grew up with nothing! My life is shit because he took the only people who ever gave a damn away from me!"  
  
"Tony gave a damn," Gibbs quietly interjected.  
  
"No. He didn't. Tony gave up on us," Mark growled.  
  
"That would be my fault," Gibbs said regretfully. "I expect a lot from my agents, and this job leaves little time for other things. That's why he lost track of you. But you know what? Back when Tony and I first started working together, he told me about Alisa Wyatt's murder. He said how worried he was for those left behind. Not just Alisa's parents, but also you and your sister."  
  
Mark scowled at Gibbs in disbelief. "Bullshit!"  
  
"It's true," Gibbs insisted. "You and Tony have more in common than you think. Tony's mother died when he was 8. For the next 4 years, he lived with an abusive, alcoholic father, until he finally abandoned Tony, sending him off to boarding schools and military academies. So, like you, Tony has been without a family since he was 12.  
  
"Tony identified with you, and he wanted to keep you and your sister together. He knows what it's like to be alone in the world."  
  
Mark shook his head. "No. No, that's not possible. You're lying!" Clearly, despite all the research Mark had done into Tony's career and personal habits, he knew nothing of his troubled childhood.  
  
"Tony is a good guy, and he really tried to look out for you. It's too bad he couldn't stop you from turning into the monster that your brother was."  
  
"No...No!" Mark put his hands over his head, in an attempt to cover his ears with his arms.  
  
Gibbs took a few pictures out of a folder and spread them out before Mark on the table. Old photos of Tony; one of him standing with an arm around Gibbs, a big, joyful smile on his face. One of him standing between Kate and McGee, clearly posing for Abby in the lab. And finally, a candid Abby had taken of Tony sitting at his desk with a pensive expression, shortly after Kate's death, his face still pale and sickly from the plague, yet looking much healthier than his current state. Images of the once whole man that Mark had made into a shell.  
  
Faced with the humanity of the very person he had dehumanized, Mark turned his head away and shut his eyes. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he yelled, like a small child having a tantrum. "That pig never cared anything about us! He got exactly what he deserved!"  
  
Gibbs knew that it was hard for Mark to accept Tony as anything but an enemy, and he wouldn't be able to change that opinion. Not this quickly anyway. But maybe he could at least cause Mark to question his reasons for hurting Tony.  
  
"Tony tried for you. He really did," Gibbs said sadly, as he stood up and moved towards the door with Fornell. "I hope you're happy with yourself."  
  
"W-wait," Mark stammered, as Gibbs and Fornell moved to leave.  
  
The two agents turned to look at Mark, who was sitting rigidly, eyes darting about and teeth clenched, as if he were mentally at war with himself.  
  
"I know I gotta do time."  
  
"A lifetime, if we have anything to say about it," Fornell commented.  
  
"So, I'm basically fucked, anyway?"  
  
"Yeah," Gibbs drawled. "You are."  
  
"Fine. What do you want to know?"  
  
"Everything," Gibbs answered, as he and Fornell sat back down. "We want to know every single detail of the hell you put Tony through. My best agent is mute and scared because of you, and the only way we can hope to get him back is if we know what you did to put him in that state."  
  
Mark took a long, slow breath, holding his cuffed hands up to his face before finally answering.  
  
"Okay. I'll tell you everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I realize Gibbs was a little wordier than usual in this chapter, but he was trying to get a point across to Mark. Basically, it was all to help Tony.
> 
> * No, Mark has not yet forgiven Tony. He hasn't even really changed his mind about him. A shift that dramatic would be unrealistic. What happened was that Gibbs forced Mark to look at Tony in a different way; to see the good and the humanity in him. The person who really did try to help. Confronted with these truths, Mark starts to question not only how he sees Tony, but also his treatment of him. It's an inner battle between his belief that he was right and evidence that seems to prove he might be wrong. (I hope that makes sense.)
> 
> * This was my first time ever writing interrogations, so please be kind.


	9. Broken Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your kudos and comments! I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me! Your feedback and encouragement motivate to keep the story going, and I am truly appreciative!

 

 _NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Gibbs bent over the toilet, expelling the last of his stomach's contents. In his long career, he'd witnessed many gruesome, brutal and truly disgusting crime scenes. But just hearing about the things that Mark Ellsworth and Kyle Taylor had done to Tony disturbed him in a way he found especially hard to recover from.  
  
Through rape, torture, and other varied painful and humiliating punishments, Tony's tormentors had taught him to fear any kind of independent thought or action. If he spoke, he would be hurt. If he moved independently, he would be hurt. If he tried to feed himself, he would be hurt.  
  
Tony's brain had been reprogrammed to the point that he didn't know how to think for himself anymore. He didn't know how to move without being guided and manipulated. Gibbs was coming to understand that Tony would be starting over; he would need to relearn everything.  
  
Gibbs stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. _"Who will take care of Tony?"_ he worried. His doctors would most likely want to put him in a psychiatric facility. But with the amount of care that Tony needed, Gibbs felt he should have more one on one attention. And in his fragile, frightened and helpless state, his best chance for healing would be with someone he felt completely safe with. Who would that even be? Tony seemed to feel safe around Gibbs - but that could easily change if he got even a fraction of his memories back. He liked McGee, and the younger agent seemed like he could be a good caregiver for Tony.  
  
But Gibbs knew that neither of them would be up to the task, for reasons Gibbs was too mentally exhausted to think about at the moment. The day had been a blur of emotions and new information.  
  
The most urgent business was now taken care of. Tony had been rescued, and was being attended to in the hospital. Ellsworth and Taylor had confessed, and would be going away for a very long time. And with all of the information that Mark had provided, Gibbs now had a better understanding of Tony's ordeal. With that knowledge, perhaps Gibbs could play an active part in the younger man's recovery.  
  
There was definitely a lot for Gibbs to think about. But right now, all he wanted to do was get back to the hospital and help take care of Tony.  
  
Gibbs rinsed out his mouth, washed his hands, and walked back out into the darkened bullpen.  
  
"I'm heading out," Gibbs told Fornell, who was finishing up some paperwork before heading back to FBI headquarters.  
  
"Going back to the hospital?"  
  
"Yep," Gibbs confirmed. " 'night, Tobias."  
  
"Goodnight, Jethro. I'll swing by with some coffee in the morning."  
  
Gibbs gave Fornell an appreciative nod and made his way to the elevator; thankful that his friend understood that Tony needed to be his priority now.  
  
"Gibbs, wait!" Ziva called after him, rushing to catch up just as he made it to the elevator.  
  
"What?" Gibbs snapped tiredly.  
  
"I think you had better go home and rest. You have barely slept these last few days. This is not healthy and I am really worried about you."  
  
Gibbs merely raised a dubious eyebrow, implicitly inviting her to carry on.  
  
"I think perhaps you are being too hard on yourself," the Israeli continued, eyeing Gibbs with a quiet concern. "I am sorry if my asking you to choose between Tony and myself put you in an uncomfortable position, and I am sorry that Tony had to find out about it. But -"  
  
"Let me get this straight," Gibbs cut her off. "You're sorry that you made things awkward for me, and you're sorry that Tony found out. But you're not sorry for making me choose."  
  
Ziva sighed. "That is not what I meant! But we have arrested Ellsworth and Taylor. We have rescued Tony. He is out of danger. You do not need to make such a fuss over him anymore."  
  
Gibbs shot Ziva an icy glare. He knew that at times she could appear insensitive and uncaring, especially when it came to Tony. But after everything that Tony had just been through, Gibbs expected her to at least understand that he would not be able to recover on his own.  
  
"This team is Tony's family. The only family he knows. All his life, he's been betrayed by people he cares about." Moving a few steps closer, Gibbs gave Ziva a pointed look. "I think our betrayal is the one that finally broke him."  
  
"We did not do this to him," Ziva said defensively.  
  
"No, but if we hadn't betrayed his trust, he might have kept fighting."  
  
The elevator doors dinged open and Gibbs stepped inside, his glare warning Ziva that if she followed, it would be at her own risk.  
  
Receiving the message loud and clear, Ziva walked away. As the doors slid closed and she disappeared from view, Gibbs stopped the elevator and allowed his facade to crumble. Leaning against the wall, he let his body slide down to the floor as he cried silent tears for Tony. He was finally beginning to realize how much the younger man meant to him, and how devastated he was by what had happened to him.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
McGee was busy writing out a rough draft for his next story, by hand, in a notebook, when he heard the click of Tony's door opening.  
  
"Hey, boss," he whispered, so as not to wake Tony.  
  
"Hey." Gibbs nodded tiredly. Glancing over at Tony's sleeping form, Gibbs' features momentarily softened into a fond smile. "Tony's still sleeping?"  
  
McGee nodded. "Been out like a light for awhile now."  
  
Gibbs chuckled. "Well, I don't wanna disturb him. Why don't we talk out here?" He motioned with his head for McGee to join him out in the hall.  
  
Nodding in agreement, McGee stood and quietly exited the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
McGee was quite curious about what Gibbs had learned in the last few hours. He knew the basics; how Mark and Kyle met, what Kyle did for a living. He even knew that Mark had been handling the bookkeeping for Kyle's plumbing business for the past year, allowing him to work from home, remaining, for the most part, unseen.  
  
What he did not yet know was how Mark and Kyle had such easy access to Tony. How did they know to be at the bar at the exact time he was there? And how long, exactly, had they been planning the kidnapping for?  
  
But before McGee could find out, Gibbs, too, needed answers.  
  
"Any problems?" Gibbs asked, making it very clear that McGee would not be getting any new information until he was sure Tony was all right.  
  
"Nothing major," McGee sighed. "He can't feed himself, either because he's afraid to or he forgot how. But he accepted food from me with no problems. And I helped with his sitz bath. Had to carry him. Boss, it's freaky how light he is!"  
  
"I know," Gibbs agreed, looking down sadly.  
  
"Ahh...other than that, not much to report. I read Tony part of my next book. It's a work in progress. He seems to like it when I read to him." McGee laughed; a laugh tinged with sad recollection. The old Tony would have never let him do that. In fact, he probably would have openly mocked him. But it was a good natured, brotherly mocking. McGee would give anything to have that Tony back.  
  
"That's a good job, McGee," Gibbs softly praised. "Thanks for looking after him."  
  
"Hey, it's no problem. Now that we have him back, I just want to make sure he's okay." McGee looked up at Gibbs expectantly. "What were you able to find out during the interrogations? Was kidnapping Tony something they'd been planning for years? The whole thing seemed pretty well orchestrated."  
  
Gibbs shook his head. "Kyle was already doing plumbing at O'Dowd's. He and Mark became good friends with the owner, Todd. About a year ago, Mark was there for a drink and just happened to see Tony. Apparently, he was a regular."  
  
"And that's when the three of them planned the kidnapping?" McGee guessed.  
  
Gibbs nodded. "Todd started chatting Tony up. Made Tony believe he was his friend. Tony willingly gave him his information; address, phone number, email -"  
  
"With all that, tracking Tony was easy," McGee concluded, piecing it all together. "You know, boss, I've been thinking. I haven't been a very good friend to Tony. I like him. A lot! But I...Oh geez! Why did it take something like this to make me realize - "  
  
A light head slap brought McGee out of his cycle of panic.  
  
"That's enough, McGee!" Gibbs snapped.  
  
McGee met Gibbs glare with sad, serious eyes. "But Gibbs, if Tony thought he had friends he could talk to, maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to drown his sorrows in alcohol."  
  
"McGee." Gibbs grabbed the young agent by the shoulders. "I get that you feel guilty. Hell, I've been living with my own guilt for months now. But you're gonna have to suck it up! Right now, helping Tony is all that matters. He's in that room, feeling scared and alone, and so far, we're the only people he feels safe around. So he's our responsibility. Got it?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, McGee nodded. "Got it, boss."  
  
With a tired smile, Gibbs pat McGee on the arm. "Tomorrow, I want you to take a look at the video of Ellsworth's interrogation. But for now - "  
  
Gibbs paused, cocking his head slightly. Hearing Tony's soft whimpers on the other side of the door, McGee did the same.  
  
"We better check on him," McGee decided.  
  
Gibbs nodded, opening the door.  
  
As Gibbs and McGee entered the room, they noted that Tony was still sleeping, his face twisted in agony. Becoming more agitated with each passing second.  
  
McGee and Gibbs exchanged a look, silently questioning if they should wake Tony. But when the whimpers became louder, and Tony's body started thrashing, they had their answer.  
  
"Tony." Gibbs leaned over the bed, looking down at Tony. Lightly brushing Tony's cheek with one hand, and his arm with the other. Helping to ease Tony into wakefulness.  
  
Tony's eyes fluttered open and darted around, his breathing still erratic. Disoriented and afraid, it took a moment for his eyes to settle on Gibbs. But when they did, his breathing slowly calmed, and he smiled up weakly at the older man, moaning softly.  
  
"Shh...It was just a bad dream, Tony. You're safe," Gibbs cooed, continuing to brush Tony's cheek. "I won't let anyone hurt you."  
  
Tony gurgled, his eyes communicating absolute trust.  
  
The sight both warmed and broke McGee's heart. Seeing Gibbs softer side, so comforting and gentle, was a nice surprise; an unexpected side of the man that McGee had never seen before Tony's abduction. Not with an adult, anyway. And his interactions with Tony were the assurance McGee needed to know that his friend would be well looked after. Gibbs wouldn't let any more harm come to Tony. That much was certain.  
  
And yet the man Gibbs was comforting, despite looking like Tony - a thinner, sicklier version of Tony - seemed like a stranger. McGee imagined this was what it must be like when a parent goes to comfort their newborn baby in the middle of the night, with Tony playing the part of the newborn. And he hated that he kept using the baby analogy when he thought of Tony. But right now, that's all he could see. The friend he had known, the one who had trained and taught him so well, was gone. Locked away in a mind broken by months of torture, violation and manipulation.  
  
McGee walked to stand beside Gibbs. And as Tony looked up at the two men, his smile finally reached his eyes.  
  
McGee smiled back down at Tony, taking his hand. Looking over at Gibbs, who gazed at Tony with complete devotion, McGee understood that they shared a common goal; to bring Tony back, if not to his former self, than at least to a point where he felt safe and happy again. They wanted Tony to be able to live in the world without fearing it.  
  
Rescuing Tony had been the easy part. Bringing him back from what Ellsworth and Taylor had done to him would be the real challenge.


	10. Abby Visits

 

The sound of Gibbs' phone ringing acted as both as an alarm, and further evidence of Tony's broken mental state. As it jolted Gibbs awake, it also started Tony screaming. Scrubbing his face with his hands, Gibbs stood, silently cursing himself for forgetting to put his phone on "vibrate".  
  
Deciding whoever was calling would have to wait, Gibbs got up to comfort Tony, who stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. As emerald green gazed into pools of blue, Tony's screams gradually died down into gasps and whimpers. During that time, a nurse quietly popped her head in to make sure Tony was all right. Gibbs quietly nodded, and the nurse set to work checking the medicine in Tony's IV.  
  
"Hey...nothing to be scared of, Tony," Gibbs tried to reassure him, holding his phone up and turning on the ringer so Tony could hear the sound one more time. "This is just a phone, Tony. It lets me talk to people who aren't here."  
  
Tony whimpered at first when he heard the ringer, but seeing the device in Gibbs' hand seemed to ease his fears. He reached out an arm and grabbed the hem of Gibbs' shirt, innocent eyes pleading for safety.  
  
Moved, as he so often was now, by Tony's child-like behavior, Gibbs leaned down to give him a hug. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, Tony. I need you to remember this."  
  
Gibbs pulled away from the hug and once again saw that innocent trust in Tony's expression. "I need to use this now," Gibbs informed Tony, holding up the phone. "I'll be just outside this door. But I'll be back soon. The nurse is going to look you over now. She's here to help you, okay?"  
  
Tony groaned, and Gibbs planted a kiss on his forehead before stepping out into the hall.  
  
Checking the caller ID, Gibbs gave an exasperated grunt. What was Abby doing calling at 3:00 in the morning? Yawning, he dialed her number.  
  
 _"Gibbs! Why didn't you pick up when I called? Is Tony all right?"_ Abby barely paused for breath between questions, and her insistent energy was proving overwhelming for Gibbs.  
  
"He's fine," Gibbs said sleepily. "But the phone scared him. I had to calm him down before I could take your call."  
  
 _"Oh...sorry!"_ Abby said sheepishly. _"I just wanted to know if I could come visit Tony. Not now. Obviously! But maybe this afternoon?"_  
  
Gibbs rubbed his forehead with his fingers. It was way too early to think about this kind of thing. Abby meant well, but her intense personality might be too much for Tony to take right now. Tony needed calm and quiet, and Abby was neither of those things.  
  
"I'll have to think about it," Gibbs said tiredly. "I'm not sure what all Tony can handle right now."  
  
 _"But Gibbs -"_  
  
"Goodbye, Abby."   
  
Hanging up, Gibbs leaned against the wall and sighed. Abby and Tony had been close, and Gibbs felt badly keeping her away from him. But, while the old Tony could handle Abby's particular brand of exuberance, the new Tony cried at the sound of the television being turned on. He needed to be eased back into life by friends who were patient and gentle. Not swept up in a hurricane of emotions, locked in a hug that robbed him of his breath; an experience which would likely remind him of his time in captivity.  
  
Gibbs walked back into the room just as the nurse was finishing up. She gave him smile and a nod; silent confirmation that Tony's physical health, at least, was stable.  
  
"Hey there, Tony," Gibbs cooed, bending forward and giving Tony a kiss on the cheek. "Try and get some more sleep."  
  
"Ehh!" Tony leaned into Gibbs' touch, grabbing at the older man's arm. Pleading for him to stay close.  
  
Gibbs smiled down at Tony, fighting back tears. Tony had been alone and neglected for too long. Now, he needed some assurance he would remain safe and cared for.  
  
Gibbs gently extracted himself from Tony's grip, his heart breaking a little when the younger man cried softly in protest.   
  
"Relax, Tony." Gibbs pushed the easy chair he had been sleeping in closer to the bed and sat down. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Gibbs gave Tony's bony hand a gentle squeeze, watching his expression as he slowly calmed. Leaning over, Gibbs rested his head on the bed beside Tony, wrapping his arm around the younger man's slender torso.  
  
"Sleep tight, baby."  
  
Within minutes, both men were fast asleep.  
  
 _NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
"Hey, Tony,"McGee whispered as he quietly entered the room, looking on as Gibbs fed Tony some soup. "How are you feeling today?"  
  
Tony's face lit up when he saw McGee, and his arms flapped giddily at his sides.   
  
"It's good to see you too, buddy," McGee said affectionately before turning to Gibbs. "Want me to take over?" he offered.  
  
"Sure." Gibbs stuck the spoon in the bowl of soup, then passed it on to McGee, before leaning in to give Tony a comforting kiss on the cheek; surprising even himself with how tender and loving he was being with Tony.  
  
"What's all this?" Gibbs asked, motioning to the large shopping bag McGee had set on the window sill.   
  
"Oh. I picked up some sweats and pajamas for Tony," McGee said casually, carefully spooning some soup into Tony's mouth. "All he has to wear now is hospital gowns," he added, sadly noting Tony's slight frame. "I got a few different sizes. Smaller clothes to start. But I did get some larger ones, too. In case he gains some weight back.   
  
Gibbs sighed, picking up a red pajama set and examining it. "I sure hope he does."  
  
"Me too," McGee said, wiping off some soup that had dribbled down Tony's chin. "Hey. Abby said something about wanting to come over."  
  
"I know," Gibbs nodded, putting the pajamas back in the bag. "I told her I'd think about it."  
  
"You... you talked to her?" McGee stammered. "Boss, I didn't know. She asked if she could ride along with me today, and -"  
  
"Are you saying Abby is here?!" Gibbs asked, glaring angrily.  
  
Gibbs' angry tone and increase in volume caused Tony's lower lip to tremble as he let out a scared cry. Gibbs' features automatically softened, as he reminded himself that he'd have to keep his tone neutral if he didn't want to upset his mentally broken agent.  
  
"I didn't think it would be a problem," McGee said softly, wiping away a tear from Tony's eye with his thumb. "Abby's been working really hard, going through all of that disgusting evidence. She knows what Ellsworth and Taylor did to Tony, and she's worried about him." McGee rubbed the back of Tony's neck, watching him slowly calm down.  
  
Gibbs sighed, looking apologetically at Tony. He really hadn't meant to frighten him. "All right, but if she - "  
  
"Tony!" Abby stood in the doorway, staring, horrified, at her old friend. "Oh my God! Look what they did to you!"  
  
Handing a gift bag off to McGee, Abby ran up to Tony, practically crushing him in a bear hug. "Oh, Tony! I'm so sorry this happened to you!"  
  
Terror was evident in Tony's eyes as he peered over Abby's shoulder. Shaking like a leaf, it was only moments before he erupted into a fit of sobs.  
  
Looking devastated, Abby loosened her hold on Tony, but refused to let go, as if hoping that if she held on long enough, she could bring back "their" Tony.  
  
"That's enough, Abby," Gibbs said, softly, but sternly, motioning with his head for her to get up.  
  
Abby looked up at Gibbs guiltily, Tony still sobbing in her arms.  
  
"I'm sorry, Gibbs! I didn't mean to upset Tony! Please don't make me go! Teach me how I'm supposed to act! I don't want Tony to be afraid of me!" she pleaded, pulling Tony closer possessively.  
  
Gibbs and McGee exchanged a meaningful look. They knew they couldn't shelter Tony from the world forever, and it would be unfair to keep him away from his friends. Abby was willing to modify her behavior for Tony's sake. It was only fair they give her a chance to prove herself.  
  
"First things first, you need to lower your volume," McGee said, motioning her over to stand beside him. "And try to keep your tone soothing and neutral. No matter how worried or upset you are, never let Tony pick up on it."  
  
Abby nodded, the reality of Tony's mental fragility sinking in as she stood, allowing Gibbs to take her place on the bed.  
  
Tony reached for Gibbs, seeking comfort and protection in the older man's arms. And Gibbs gladly gave it to him, holding Tony close and rubbing soothing circles on his back.   
  
Tony's sobs gradually died down into soft hiccups and whimpers, and Gibbs gently laid him back down on the bed, wiping away his tears.  
  
Waving Abby over, Gibbs grabbed hold of her hand, his other hand lightly squeezing Tony's.   
  
"Tony, this is your friend, Abby," Gibbs explained. "She's nice. We like her."  
  
Tony seemed to relax slightly at those words, gifting Abby with the faintest of smiles. It was clear in Tony's eyes that he still wasn't sure about Abby. But Gibbs had taught him that anyone he called a "friend" was safe.  
  
  
"I'm sorry I scared you, Tony," Abby apologized softly. "I'm glad you're okay." Leaning over, Abby gingerly caressed Tony's cheek.   
  
Tony looked at Abby with uncertainty at first. But he turned his gaze first towards Gibbs, then McGee, studying their features. Their apparent trust in Abby seemed to be the assurance he needed, and his smile widened ever so slightly.  
  
Abby stepped back, slowly and deliberately, so that Tony could see what she was doing. Taking the gift bag from McGee, she held it up in front of Tony.  
  
"I got you a present, Tony," she cooed softly, pulling a large, stuffed monkey out of the bag. "His name is Walter, and he's your friend, too!"  
  
Abby handed the monkey to Tony. Looking reluctant, Tony turned to Gibbs. Gibbs nodded, putting Tony's mind as ease. A silent message that the new gift was harmless.  
  
Reaching out his arms, Tony pawed at the monkey clumsily before hugging it to his body and letting out a happy squeal. Smiling up at Abby, a new fondness lit up his features.  
  
Taking a seat in the chair by Tony's bed, Abby beamed. And as she looked over at Gibbs, giddy that she had made that connection with "little" Tony, it was clear she was doing everything in her power to suppress the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.  
  
Gibbs smiled to himself, thankful for Abby's new found restraint. It might be awhile before she could be left with Tony unsupervised. This kind of behavior didn't come naturally to her after all. Still, it was good to know that Tony had added one more person to his circle of trust.


	11. Conditioned By Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since today is my birthday, I'm hoping to be gifted with some extra comments and kudos on this chapter. Pretty please with Gibbs on top of Tony? ;)

 

A little over a week since his rescue, Tony was showing small signs of improvement. He could finally keep down small meals, and had even gained a little weight. It was only really noticeable in his face, which had filled out and gotten some color back. He was beginning to resemble the Tony his friends remembered once again, as opposed to someone on the brink of death.  
  
Gibbs had taken the time to carefully introduce everybody on Tony's care team as a "friend", and now Tony was at the point where there was no fear or panic if he was left alone with one of them. Gibbs said they were safe, and Tony trusted Gibbs implicitly.  
  
Tony was still mute. He still couldn't feed himself, dress himself, clean himself, go to the bathroom, or get up and walk. He was completely dependent on others. And there was no physical reason for these limitations. Gibbs knew, it was all in his head. The psychologist who had come in to see Tony explained that, through months of repeated physical and mental abuse, Tony had been conditioned to fear independent thought and movement. He retreated into this baby/wounded animal persona as a means of protection, burying the person he used to be deep within his subconscious.  
  
But hope was presented with the knowledge that the real Tony - the one Gibbs had come to know over the years - was still in there somewhere. With time, love and patience, Tony might eventually come around to some version of his former self.  
  
Gibbs wasn't sure how he felt about this. Yes, he wanted Tony to be happy. He wanted him to stop being afraid, and open himself up to others. He wanted his quick witted, energetic, funny, big hearted agent to return.  
  
This "baby" Tony looked at Gibbs with so much trust and adoration. Gibbs was his world! The one he sought for comfort when he was afraid. The one he reached for when he wanted to snuggle. One of only two people (along with McGee) who Tony loved and trusted unconditionally.  
  
But the Tony that confronted Gibbs and Ziva in the bullpen that night, angry, hurt and betrayed, would be more likely to punch Gibbs than hug him. The Tony that went to the bar, spilling his guts to Ellsworth while he drank himself into a stupor just wanted to forget Gibbs ever existed. If that Tony ever came back, Gibbs might lose the love and trust he had earned from this sweet, innocent "little boy", and that thought broke his heart.  
  
Gibbs knew that it was selfish to want to keep Tony from coming back to who he was. He was already facing the consequences of his betrayal every time he looked at Tony. And he should be man enough to admit he was wrong - and yes, even apologize - if and when Tony remembered. Gibbs comforted himself with the thought that Tony might be more forgiving of the man who had rescued him and cared for him so attentively.  
  
Gibbs' biggest concern, however, was more immediate. Tony would be discharged from the hospital soon, and it was still unclear where he would be staying. Gibbs had been presented with a list of psychiatric facilities and group homes. But he felt uneasy just leaving Tony with a new set of strangers, carefully introducing him to them in the hopes he would feel safe and be able to adjust. Equally important was finding caregivers who were patient enough to deal with the tears, screaming, outbursts and clinginess that defined who Tony had become.  
  
These thoughts were at the forefront of Gibbs' mind as he caught Tony glancing out the window while in the midst of changing him.  
  
It was a beautiful, sunny day, and it had been a long time since Tony had been out in the sunlight. Gibbs felt a flutter of hope in his heart at Tony's interest in the outside world. Perhaps this was a good time to try and get him out of the room.  
  
Gibbs smiled affectionately at Tony, who looked up at him, trusting and vulnerable.  
  
"Would you like to go outside?"  
  
Tony smiled up at Gibbs and wiggled a little, his arms flapping happily at his sides.  
  
"Okay, then!" Gibbs chuckled. "Let's finish up here, then we'll go."  
  
As Gibbs turned to get a fresh diaper for Tony, he had another idea. Going to the bathroom was another mental block for Tony to overcome. Maybe Gibbs should introduce Tony to the idea of it now, before he's discharged and sent to live who knows where?  
  
His mind made up, Gibbs decided to leave Tony's bottom bare for the time being.  
  
Walking back to the bed, Gibbs leaned over and carded his fingers tenderly through Tony's hair, his heart swelling with affection as green eyes stared up adoringly at him.  
  
"Would you like to use the toilet?"  
  
Tony kicked his feet and squealed.  
  
"Good...good. I like the enthusiasm. I'm gonna sit you up now, okay?" Gibbs informed Tony, easing him up.  
  
Then the trouble came. When Gibbs tried to get Tony to his feet, he instead immediately dropped to his knees on the floor. Gibbs suspected Tony might need help walking. After all, it had been months since he'd been allowed to. But he should be able to with assistance.  
  
No, this wasn't physical disability. Tony was kneeling, acting as though he were Gibbs' slave. Gibbs knew; Tony thought his place was on the floor, and convincing him otherwise was going to take some work.  
  
"Tony? Tony, can you stand up for me?" Gibbs asked gently, reaching his hand down for the younger man.  
  
Tony didn't recoil in fear. He didn't look away. He stared right into Gibbs eyes, completely trusting.  
  
But he didn't move to stand either, his look of confusion communicating that he really had no idea what was expected of him.  
  
Gibbs sighed, scrubbing his face with his hand. He knew that Tony would follow him to the bathroom on all fours without protest. But Gibbs wasn't about to let him demean himself like that. Tony may have lost all sense of shame, but Gibbs wasn't about to reinforce the messages of dehumanization that had been programmed into him.  
  
Finally, Gibbs rolled the wheelchair over to Tony, putting on the breaks.  
  
"Come on. Up you go," Gibbs said, patting the seat. With lots of guidance, and more work on Gibbs' part than Tony's, Tony was eventually seated in the wheelchair.  
  
It was a short trip from Tony's bed to the bathroom, but Gibbs would be damned if he let Tony crawl around on the floor.  
  
Gibbs stopped the chair just outside the bathroom door, then moved to stand in front of Tony.  
  
"Can you stand up for me, Tony?" Gibbs asked, offering his hands.  
  
This time, Tony obeyed. He was shaky on his feet, and needed all the support Gibbs could offer. But once the two men were at eye level, Gibbs smiled proudly at Tony.  
  
"I knew you could do it!"  
  
Tony replied by falling forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Gibbs. The hug seemed deliberate. Losing his balance probably wasn't.  
  
Gibbs rubbed Tony's back, holding him securely as he got him safely upright. "I won't let you fall, baby." He pulled back, maintaining a firm grip on Tony. "You ready?"  
  
"Eh! Eh!"  
  
"Okay. Here we go." Gibbs took a few steps back until his calves touched the toilet. Then, never letting go, made his way to stand behind Tony, gently nudging him forward.  
  
"Time to go pee, Tony. Whenever you're ready," Gibbs encouraged, all too aware of the fact that he was basically potty training his agent.  
  
Grunting, Tony reached back, desperately grabbing for Gibbs' corresponding hand. Tony seemed on the verge of a panic attack, so Gibbs willingly accepted his hand, thinking the younger man might need a little extra physical reassurance.  
  
What came next, Gibbs was not expecting. Maintaining a weak grip on Gibbs' hand, Tony guided it over to his flaccid penis. Soon, Gibbs found his hand covering Tony's member.  
  
"Tony, what the hell?!" Gibbs shouted, recoiling in horror. He instantly regretted his response as Tony fell to the floor, whimpering fearfully.  
  
Before Gibbs had a chance to process what had just happened, Tony shakily lifted himself up onto his hands and knees. Spreading his legs apart, he then proceeded to lift his ass into the air and shove it up towards Gibbs. Gibbs felt his stomach flip as he realized, Tony was offering himself sexually.  
  
"Tony! No! What are you doing?!" Gibbs hadn't meant to come off sounding angry. What he was feeling was more along the lines of horror, shock and devastation. Yes, he was angry at Ellsworth and Taylor for what they had done to Tony. But he had no intention of reflecting that anger in his interactions with Tony.  
  
But anger was the only thing Tony seemed to pick up on. Rolling onto his side, he drew his knees up to his chest, shaking violently, sobbing and hiding his face in his hands.  
  
Gibbs sighed heavily, staring at Tony's crumpled form; guilt overwhelming his senses. After convincing Tony to trust him, offering him love and safety in a world he feared, Gibbs had managed to break the man once again in a matter of seconds.  
  
Leaving the bathroom for just a moment, he grabbed a fresh diaper, then walked back in, crouching down beside Tony. Rolling Tony over onto his back, his heart shattered as scared and tearful green eyes stared back up at him.  
  
A sickened feeling unlike any he'd experienced before crept over Gibbs. He had made Tony afraid.  
  
Tony didn't know better. He didn't understand why Gibbs was disturbed by his behavior. Behavior he had likely learned from Mark Ellsworth.  
  
Ellsworth had failed to mention anything about Tony using the bathroom during the exhaustive interrogation, leading Gibbs to believe that they kept Tony in diapers when he wasn't being used as a fuck toy. Apparently, that wasn't always the case. Gibbs made a mental note to get that information from Ellsworth later.  
  
He was, however, aware that Ellsworth and Taylor had used sex as a punishment. Now that he thought about it, Tony probably mistook Gibbs' shock as anger, and was positioning himself to accept the violation.  
  
It was a complex, emotional mind fuck, and not something that could be easily undone. The best that Gibbs could do at the moment was try and reassure Tony that he wasn't angry with him.

Gibbs put a fresh diaper on Tony quickly and efficiently, not wanting to leave him on the bathroom floor for too long. Then, he turned his attention to comforting the frightened man.  
  
"Relax, Tony," Gibbs whispered scooping Tony up into his lap. "I'm not angry with you."  
  
Tony sobbed into Gibbs' chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. Long, too-thin legs curled up into his body, making him appear impossibly small.  
  
Holding Tony's head securely, Gibbs massaged the younger man's scalp, continuing to whisper reassuring affirmations to him. Telling Tony how proud he was of him. How strong Tony was to overcome all he had been put through. How everyone back at work was rooting for him.  
  
As Gibbs held and soothed Tony, the decision he had been wrestling with was made for him. Tony's future was secure.  
  
"You're coming home with me," Gibbs cooed. "I'll take care of you as long as you need me to."


	12. A Past Unwelcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the warm birthday wishes last week! They really did help to make the day extra special for me!

 

"Can I help you, Special Agent Gibbs?" Director Vance asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he glanced up at the man who had charged into his office unannounced.

"I need to take some time off," Gibbs said, getting right to the point.

"I'm guessing this has something to do with Special Agent DiNozzo getting discharged from the hospital next week," Vance said, standing.

Gibbs nodded. "It does. He's moving in with me."

"And how much 'time off' are we talking about?" Vance asked, walking to the front of his desk. "A week? A month?"

"As long as it takes!" Gibbs snapped.

"I understand that," Vance said calmly, his tone surprisingly non confrontational. "Tony and I may have had our differences, but I won't deny he was your best agent. And no one deserves to go through what he did. Now, how much time do you need? " The question was asked in a slow, deliberate tone, tinged with a gentleness that Gibbs hadn't expected from the Director.

Gibbs just stood there for a moment, having to adjust his behavior to match Vance's surprisingly cooperative attitude. "I don't know," he finally answered, sighing heavily. "If I can't find someone I can trust to watch Tony..." his voice trailed off, and he scrubbed his face, clearly fighting back tears.

"You thinking about retiring?" Vance asked, his cold Director's facade softened with concern.

"I dunno, Leon. Maybe," Gibbs replied, finally looking up to meet Vance's gaze. "Tony is in a bad state."

"I know," Vance nodded, recalling his recent visit to the hospital.

"Actually, you don't," Gibbs said quietly. "Tony has certain behaviors...I can't leave him with just anyone, Leon."

Vance took a few steps forward. "Go home, Jethro. Get your house ready for Tony." His lips quirked up into a smirk. "As much as it might bruise your ego, we'll be able to manage just fine without you."

Laughing tiredly, Gibbs gave an appreciative nod. "Thanks, Leon," he said in an almost whisper as he made his way to the door.  
Not long ago, the verbal show of gratitude may have seemed uncharacteristic. But if Gibbs had learned anything in recent months, it was not to take anyone for granted.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

McGee glanced over, catching Ziva staring blankly at Tony's desk, chin resting on her fist.

"You miss him, huh?"

"What?" Ziva looked up distractedly. "Oh. Yes, of course I miss him. I just...I am just wondering how long it will be before Gibbs finds a replacement."

"Why are you in such a hurry for that to happen?" McGee asked accusingly, his brow furrowed in anger.

"I am only saying we are small handed - " Ziva began.

"You mean 'short handed'," McGee corrected, voice strained with annoyance.

"Get used to it," Gibbs breezed on past them, making his way to his desk. "I'm taking some time off."

"Wh-what?!" Ziva abruptly rose to her feet. "But it will just be McGee and myself here. How are we supposed to manage?"

Gibbs gave Ziva an icy glare, moving towards her desk with slow, deliberate steps.

"There was a time when the 'team' consisted of Tony and me. That's it," Gibbs growled, once he was standing in front of Ziva. "Somehow, we managed to get things done without help, and I never once heard Tony whining about us being short handed. Remember that the next time you find yourself thinking you're so much better than he is!"

Ziva gave a few breathless stammers before realizing she had no good argument. So in an attempt to save face, she just stood there, refusing to back down. Brown eyes glared, nostrils flared, and her lips pursed tightly. But Gibbs' icy glare, coupled with the humbling truths he had just presented her with, eventually had Ziva averting her eyes.

"We won't let you down, boss," McGee interjected, in an attempt to ease the tension in the bullpen.

"I know _you_ won't, McGee." Gibbs' expression briefly softened as he looked over at the young agent. "That's why I'm leaving you in charge." He shot Ziva one final glare before briskly making his way to the elevator without another word.

Once Gibbs was gone, McGee stared at Ziva through narrowed eyes; watching as she huffed, typing loudly and violently.

"So, what happened between you and Gibbs?" McGee finally asked the question that had been bothering him for months.

"It is nothing," Ziva said dismissively, eyes fixed on her computer screen.

"Don't give me that. Ever since Tony went missing, you've either been arguing, or doing everything you can to avoid talking to each other. Not to mention the fact that not once have you gone to visit Tony at the hospital, or even asked how he's doing!"

"I..." Ziva finally looked up at McGee, her face nearly expressionless, save for the guilt that her eyes couldn't hide.

"It is because I feel ashamed!" she finally blurted out. "It is because I treated Tony terribly and broke the already tenuous trust that existed between us. Because after all that Tony has suffered through, I still stand by my actions. And no matter how badly I feel about what happened to Tony, I am not sorry for what I did!"

McGee's mouth turned down into an angry frown as he stood, slowly making his way over to Ziva's desk. Any trace of the timid probie that Ziva had met years ago had vanished, replaced by a man with confidence and a sense of purpose. A man who wanted nothing more than to be the best agent he could in place of his fallen friend. Tim was motivated by grief, loss, and the need to defend Tony , now that Tony could no longer defend himself.

"Why? What did you do?"

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Tony felt anxious as he slowly slipped into consciousness. Something was wrong.

Lying quiet and still for several minutes, he pretended to be asleep; too afraid to open his eyes.

Someone was in the room with him. He could hear their breathing. He could smell the overpowering stench of their cologne.

Tony knew this wasn't a friend. It wasn't Jethro or Tim. It wasn't any of the nice doctors or nurses.

And yet, this presence sparked an uneasy feeling of familiarity in Tony that he couldn't quite place. He was sure this must be someone he knew in a life long forgotten, and he had a feeling it would have been better to keep them in the past.

"You always were weak."

Tony's eyes popped open at the disapproving tone of the deep, booming voice. He choked out a sob and felt his chest tighten at the sight of the large, white haired man.

Though the man smiled down at Tony like a Cheshire cat, his eyes were filled with a cold disdain.

"Hello, Junior."


	13. Daddy's Here

 

Tony's breath came in high pitched whimpers as the white haired man approached him, leaning over and brushing a hand down Tony's cheek. There was nothing tender or loving about this touch, and the movement caused Tony to recoil, turning away from the man and burying his face in his hands as he drew his knees up to his chest.  
  
"Come now, Junior. Don't be rude," the man admonished in a sing-song voice, grabbing Tony roughly by the shoulder and rolling him onto his back. Tony attempted to curl back up into a ball, but the man pinned him down with his left elbow, while grabbing his face firmly with his right hand.  
  
Tony didn't dare to fight back. He knew the punishment for disobedience, and he felt himself become queasy as images of what this man might do to him entered his unwilling mind. So he just lay there. His chest tightened, making breathing increasingly difficult, and he felt himself grow light headed as the man leaned in closer.  
  
"I think we both know why I'm here," the man whispered into Tony's ear, causing him to shiver. "To claim what's mine."  
  
The man gave Tony's ear lobe a nibble, and Tony felt like his heart was being squeezed as a horrible realization came to him; Jethro hadn't been in to see him all day.  
  
Tony liked Jethro a lot! He was nice a nice man. Sometimes he yelled, and that was scary. But after, he would always apologize, snuggling with Tony and telling him he wasn't mad at him, and that he would never hurt him.  
  
The last time Tony saw Jethro, it was dark out. Jethro had stayed, watching Tony from the bedside chair. As Tony drifted off to sleep, he felt safe and cared for. Like maybe the bad people couldn't hurt him anymore. Even though Tony was a worthless pig who didn't deserve love and comfort, for some reason, he believed that Jethro would be his new Master.  
  
But today, Jethro was nowhere to be found. Instead, this new person - this unpleasantly familiar stranger - was laying his hands and mouth all over Tony, as if he held some claim over him. And it occurred to Tony that maybe Jethro was simply caring for him until this new Master could come for him. How could Tony be so stupid?! How could he believe that he could ever have a loving home with a gentle Master?  
  
Confronted with the loss of the future he had hoped for, Tony wept pitifully. How foolish he had been to believe that Jethro cared anything about him.  
_  
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Gibbs couldn't ignore the incessant churning of his gut, even if he wanted to. True, he felt anxious every time he had to leave Tony. But this time, there was an urgency to this anxiety, which only got worse as he approached Tony's room.  
  
Opening the door to the room, Gibbs felt much worse, his heart dropping into his stomach at the sight before him. Sitting on the bed beside Tony's prone form was a man who appeared to be around 10 years older than Gibbs. He had white hair, and wore a dark grey suit that probably cost more than every suit Gibbs had ever worn put together. He was leaning over Tony, wiping away his tears and whispering into Tony's ear as the younger man cried softly.  
  
To the untrained eye, this might appear a comforting sight. But Gibbs sensed resentment and hostility in the man. He saw the way Tony tensed at the touch, while at the same same quietly submitting to it. Gibbs was reminded of the way Tony had been when he found him in Kyle Taylor's basement, cradled in Mark Ellsworth's arms. Gibbs vowed that he would never let Tony suffer like that again. Yet here it was, happening right in front of him.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Gibbs demanded, trying to keep his voice as soft, and his tone as neutral as possible, so as not to upset Tony further.  
  
The man turned around, his smile a mask of manipulative charm.  
  
"I'm Anthony DiNozzo...Senior," the man said, standing and extending his hand to Gibbs. "And...you are...?"  
  
"Tony's boss,"Gibbs answered curtly, refusing the offered hand. Gibbs didn't miss the way Tony visibly relaxed as the man stepped away from him. "So, you're Tony's father. I have to admit, I never expected to see _you_ here."  
  
DiNozzo Senior put his hand down quickly, looking a little sheepish. "Tony's mentioned me?"  
  
"You could say that," Gibbs replied, recalling that night in early 2003, when Tony accidentally confessed his childhood pain.  
  
_Gibbs took a few tentative steps towards Tony's hospital bed. The young agent appeared to be resting comfortably, and Gibbs found himself watching for Tony's chest to rise and fall, just to be sure he was still breathing._  
  
_"Rrruude to s-sstare," Tony slurred through his medicated haze._  
  
_Gibbs chuckled. "How ya feelin', DiNozzo?"_  
  
_"Like I got shot," Tony winced, unconciously moving his hand to the bandaged bullet wound on his stomach._  
  
_"Hey, I never asked you to take a bullet for me," Gibbs teased, his smile betraying the worry he felt for Tony. "You lucked out, y'know. Couple of inches to the left, and you'd be dead."_  
  
_"Better me than you."_  
  
_"Don't even joke about that," Gibbs said sternly, hoping to God that Tony was, indeed, joking._

 _  
"I'd miss you, DiNozzo. I bet a lot of people would."  
  
Tony shook his head slowly. "No friends ...M-mom is -d-dead. And my dad h-hits..."  
  
Though the man lying in front of Gibbs was fully grown, more than capable of taking care of himself, Gibbs felt a protective anger building in him at what he had just heard. Tony had only mentioned in his father in passing, describing him as cold, distant, and uninvolved. But he had never alluded to being abused by the man.  
  
"Tony." Gibbs lightly tapped at Tony's cheek, in an effort to keep him awake. "Did your father hurt you?"  
  
Tony gave a barely perceptible nod. "Mmm...'Specially when he was drr-drinking. Ss-said I'm weak. Em-embarrassement to the DiNozzo name...Just cuz I c-cried a lot a-afterrr mom...'DiNozzos don't cry!' "  
  
Tony said the last words in a deep, booming voice. Clearly an imitation of his father. His eyes were focused on the ceiling, as if he were lost in the memory, almost unaware of Gibbs' presence.  
  
"Hey. You're not an embarrassment, Tony," Gibbs whispered, brushing away a stray tear that had fallen down Tony's cheek. "Everyone needs to cry sometimes. You lost your mom. There's nothing wrong with crying over that." Gibbs found himself slipping into "parent mode", talking to Tony as if he were still that abused little boy, rather than the capable agent he had grown up to be.  
  
Tony's gaze slowly drifted back over to Gibbs, and he gave him a questioning look. "You cry?"  
  
"Sometimes, yeah," Gibbs confirmed with a sad smile. "I've lost people I loved, and I let myself cry when that happened. Sometimes, crying helps to make things hurt less."  
  
"Not for m-mme," Tony said, he eyes starting to droop closed. "Dad made me h-hurt..."  
  
Before Tony could get the sentence out, he was once again sleeping.  
  
Gibbs knew that Tony probably wouldn't remember any of this, and if asked about his childhood abuse, he would deny it ever happened. So Gibbs would have to keep Tony's secret, never letting on that he knew.  
  
How could anyone hurt their child? Regardless of the circumstances, there was no excuse for it! If Gibbs had still lost Shannon, but Kelly had somehow survived, he would cherish her, making her a priority in the ways that he should have when she was alive. Yet Tony's father instead chose to work through his grief by beating his son.  
  
Now that Gibbs knew what the elder DiNozzo had done, it would be in his best interest to stay out of his son's life. Gibbs couldn't promise he would be able to control his rage if he ever met the man.  
_  
  
"What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked suspiciously. "How did you know where to find Tony?"  
  
"Oh, I got a call from one of your agents," Senior replied, his smile barely fading. "Ziva, I believe her name was."  
  
Gibbs felt his blood run cold at the mention of Ziva. He was sure she knew nothing of what Tony's father had done. But that was just the point; she knew nothing. And considering all of her daddy issues, one would think she'd know better than to call Tony's dad before first getting the facts.  
  
"Thank you for looking after Junior until I could get here." Senior walked back over to Tony's bed, brushing his fingers through his son's hair, and once again, Tony tensed at the touch. "I'll be happy to take him off your hands now."  
  
"Take him _off my hands_?" Gibbs asked, disgusted that anyone would say such a thing about their child. Yes, taking care of Tony was difficult. His moods were unpredictable, and the mental and emotional damage meant that he required full care. But Gibbs never saw him as a burden. The fact that Tony's own father would even imply such a thing infuriated him.  
  
"Mr. DiNozzo, I am Tony's medical proxy. I'm the one who makes decisions for Tony if he is unable to do so himself. It might also interest you to know that Tony listed me as his next of kin, not you. You have no claim on your son, and if he could speak for himself, I have a feeling he'd tell you to leave."  
  
"What right do you have to keep me away from my son?!" Senior asked indignantly.  
  
Tony looked up at Senior, frightened, and began crying once again.  
  
Looking at Tony with what appeared to be shame and disgust more than concern, Senior took a deep breath. "Please, let me be here for my son," Senior pleaded, in a tone that was obviously intended to be apologetic. But Gibbs wasn't buying it.  
  
"Oh? Like you were there for him when he had the plague a few years ago? Or when he nearly died from a gunshot wound? Or the time - "  
  
"If I had known about any of that, I would have come in a heartbeat!" Senior insisted.  
  
At that point, Tony lost control, sobbing, kicking, and reaching his arms out to seek comfort in Gibbs' embrace.  
  
Gibbs squeezed onto the bed, gathering Tony into his arms protectively. "If Tony had wanted to see you back then, he would have called," Gibbs said calmly as he gently rocked Tony. "I don't know why you suddenly decided to show up now, but since Tony can't tell us whether or not he wants you around, I'm going to have to ask you to leave".  
  
"Is everything all right in here?" a nurse asked, peering her head in and casting a concerned glance Tony's way.  
  
"Everything is fine," Gibbs assured her. "Mr. DiNozzo here was just leaving."  
  
The nurse nodded, eyeing Senior suspiciously. "Okay. I'll be back in a bit with Tony's dinner," she informed them before making her exit.  
  
Now, Tony was sobbing into Gibbs' chest, his tears and snot getting all over Gibbs' shirt.  
  
"Leave," Gibbs said to Senior, calmly but sternly, rubbing Tony's back as he spoke.  
  
Senior frowned, an angry glint in his eyes, abandoning his charming, friendly persona. "You haven't seen the last of me. I will be back for my son! You can't keep him away from me!"  
  
At those words, Tony cried even louder, his sobs escalating to near screams.  
  
It only took an angry glare from Gibbs for Senior to finally leave, trying - and failing - to disguise the look of disdain on his face as one of concern. It was obvious that Senior couldn't accept Tony in his current state. So why the hell was he so interested in being a part of Tony's life again?  
  
It took several minutes for Tony to finally calm down. But when he did, he looked up at Gibbs with the sweetest, most open and loving smile Gibbs had ever seen.  
  
"Nuh nuh," Tony said, pawing at Gibbs' arms, indicating he wanted to snuggle.  
  
As Gibbs pulled Tony closer, listening to his contented breathing, his mind continued to race. Gibbs needed to keep Senior away from Tony. Who knew what damage the man had already done in the short time he had visited?  
  
There was also the matter of Ziva. It seemed she would be a bigger problem than Gibbs had originally thought, and her presence might be doing the team more harm than good.  
  
Gibbs would ask McGee to come in later and look after Tony. It was time he had a serious talk with the Israeli.


	14. Hearts Transformed

 

Gibbs stared out the window of Tony's hospital room, taking a long sip of coffee. Early morning sun shone through the window, casting a light across Tony that made him appear angelic.  
  
After a fitful night's sleep, Gibbs had gained some clarity in regards to his confrontation with Senior the previous afternoon.  
  
Gibbs couldn't just go in, hot tempered, and confront Ziva. He would need to talk to people, get information, and come up with some kind of a plan. He needed to know why Ziva had contacted Senior, and what either of them stood to gain from it.  
  
As recently as the previous day, Gibbs had no doubt that McGee and Ziva would have been able to manage on their own until Vance was able to find suitable agents to fill the void left by Gibbs and Tony's absences.  
  
Even taking into account the tension between Gibbs and Ziva, the Israeli had seemed trustworthy. She did her job, and despite her seeming disinterest in Tony's safety and well-being, she was able to help with the investigation into his kidnapping.  
  
But her call to Senior put things in a whole new light. The team was falling apart, and the cracks that had been forming over time could no longer be ignored. Gibbs realized this was partly his fault. He allowed Ziva to get away with too much, for too long. He let the team mentally abuse Tony. Hell, he'd done a bit of it himself, not to mention the head slaps, which Gibbs now realized had become harder in recent years, the intent behind them less about tough love than cruelty.  
  
Instead of drinking with Gibbs in his basement, Tony sought comfort from strangers in a bar. Gibbs played a part in alienating Tony from the only family he knew, and the consequence was the sweet baby boy who now lay sleeping.  
  
Gibbs looked down at Tony, taking in the sight of long eyelashes and plump lips, slightly parted as he snored; his breath rattling softly as a result of his bout with the plague.  
  
Tony had a good heart, and all he ever wanted from Gibbs was love and approval. He never deserved the cruel treatment he had received.  
  
"Oh, Tony. I'm so sorry," Gibbs whispered down to his former agent, taking Tony by the hand and brushing his thumb across the younger man's knuckles.  
  
"Wow. Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth."  
  
Gibbs looked up to see McGee approaching him with a cup of hot coffee.  
  
"Yeah, well, I have a lot to be sorry for," Gibbs explained, while nodding his appreciation as he accepted the offered beverage from McGee.  
  
"So I've heard," McGee said blandly, taking a seat in the chair at Tony's bedside.  
  
"What, exactly, have you heard?" Gibbs asked, eyes widening just slightly as he leaned against the windowsill.  
  
"Ziva told me what happened in Israel," McGee explained, whispering, so as not to wake Tony. His breathing was very controlled; his voice stiff. It was clear that he was trying to keep his emotions from rising to the surface, fully aware of Tony's sensitivity and fragility.  
  
Gibbs sighed. "McGee, I - "  
  
"Why did you ask me to come and watch Tony today?" McGee asked, quickly changing the subject. "I thought the whole point of you leaving was so _you_ could take care of him."  
  
"Tony's father showed up here yesterday," Gibbs explained. "Not sure how much you know about the man, and it's not my place to tell you. All you need to know is he can't be allowed anywhere near Tony."  
  
"Wh- how did Tony's dad know to find him here?" McGee asked, blinking rapidly.  
  
"Ziva told him," Gibbs growled. "Not sure what possessed her to do it, since she doesn't seem to give a damn about Tony one way or the other."  
  
"My guess is she wanted to hand Tony over to his dad so you'd come back."  
  
McGee's eyes rested on Tony. The sleeping man's eyes scrunched tightly, and his lower lip trembled as he whined softly.  
  
"Well, whatever the reason, she crossed a line, and I'm done making excuses for her."  
  
Moving towards the bed, Gibbs leaned over, kissing Tony's forehead. The gesture elicited raised eyebrows from McGee, and Gibbs had to admit even to himself that he was surprised by the action. But it wasn't just guilt driving him to take care of Tony anymore. He was truly growing to love the sweet, innocent, damaged man in the bed. And every day, that love grew a little stronger.  
  
"I just need you to look after Tony while I deal with this. I hate to leave him, but -"  
  
"Go ahead." McGee's features softened into a sad smile. "I don't want Ziva making things any worse than she already has. You do what you need to do. I'll take care of Tony."  
  
"I appreciate it, McGee," Gibbs nodded. Making his way to the doorway, he then stopped, lightly touching McGee's arm. "Hey. We'll talk later, all right? I owe you that much."  
  
McGee could only nod, seemingly surprised by Gibbs' promise of opening up to him. "Thanks, boss."  
  
With a faint smile and a pat on the shoulder, Gibbs departed, thinking that McGee wouldn't be calling him "boss" for very much longer.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Tim McGee wheeled Tony around the hospital gift shop. He'd had the idea to give Tony the opportunity to pick out a present for himself, curious to see what would happen if given a choice  
  
As McGee looked down at his friend, who stared at his surroundings with innocence and wonder, he thought about how, in the span of almost five months, everything had changed.  
  
McGee was still having a hard time reconciling the baby in the wheelchair with the clever, loyal and funny agent who had become like a big brother to him. And as sad as it was to say, yes, Tony was, for all intents and purposes, a baby now. It made McGee sick to his stomach to think about it, but he knew that Tony must have endured unimaginable horrors to be reduced to this state; scarcely a shadow of his former self.  
  
He felt even worse when he thought back on his treatment of the older man. Sure, Tony had teased him. He'd given McGee a hard time, especially when he first joined NCIS. But McGee realized now that it was never mean spirited. It was all in good fun, and often in the name of toughening McGee up to make him a better agent.  
  
But when Ziva came along, teasing and ridiculing Tony, acting like she had free run of NCIS, McGee saw that as an opportunity for payback. Forming an unspoken alliance with her, he'd slowly broken Tony's spirit without even realizing it. It wasn't fair of him, and McGee wished he could turn back the clock and take every hurtful thing he ever said to Tony back.  
  
Thinking optimistically, though, caring for Tony had transformed hearts. McGee had gained courage and confidence. So protective of Tony, he would go up against anything and anyone who dared to hurt him without hesitation; including an arrogant former Mossad officer who, not long ago, would have scared the shit out of McGee.  
  
McGee's heart simply broke at the sight of Tony's frightened, vulnerable green eyes, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to make his fallen mentor feel safe again.  
  
Gibbs, McGee noticed, had changed, too. There was a gentleness to his personality now. He said "please", expressed gratitude, asked for help when he needed it, and was more open about his emotions than he had ever been before. And, like McGee, he was fiercely protective of Tony.  
  
Even knowing what he knew now about what happened in Israel, McGee couldn't be too angry with Gibbs. The former marine's actions spoke of not only guilt and regret, but also an immense love. There was truly no one who would make a better caregiver for Tony.  
  
Thinking about it, McGee decided that, while he would like for Tony to return to some form of his former self, he could live with Tony being an overgrown baby for the rest of his life, if that's how it had to be. But only if the fear was gone. If Tony felt safe and protected with the people who loved him, McGee could accept him either way.  
  
"Ungh!" Tony grunted reaching his hand up for a large, white stuffed bear. The bear had large blue eyes, hearts on its paws, and was big enough to double as a pillow.  
  
"You want the bear?" McGee asked, smiling down at Tony. "You want a friend for your little monkey Walter?"  
  
Tony whined, stretching his hand up higher, until he was in danger of falling out of the wheelchair.  
  
"Whoa...I got it, buddy." McGee managed to keep the panic out of his voice as he lightly tapped at Tony's chest.  
  
Tony settled, watching, wide eyed as McGee took the stuffed animal off the shelf and handed it to him.  
  
Tony snatched the bear from McGee, clinging it tightly to his chest and rubbing his cheek against it affectionately. McGee thought it must be the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and he felt a flutter of hope in his heart at the fact that Tony had gone ahead and selected a gift for himself. McGee gave Tony back a bit of control, and Tony accepted it without incident.  
  
As McGee wheeled Tony over towards the cashier, they passed some snacks. Eyeing a bag of animal crackers, Tim smiled, another idea coming to him.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Pulling the blankets up over Tony's lap, McGee sighed. Tony was, sadly, still light enough to be lifted back up into bed without much difficulty, and McGee wondered when Tony would feel brave enough to stand up and do it himself. Or when he might start walking again. Because it was more a matter of _"won't"_ than _"can't"_ ; a fear of daring to do anything of his own free will.  
  
But it was just that kind of independent thinking that McGee was hoping for with Tony. Picking out the bear for himself was a start. Now, McGee intended to help him take the next step.  
  
"You hungry, buddy? You want a snack?" McGee asked through the lump that was forming in his throat at the sight of Tony hugging his bear tightly and kissing it on the nose. Just when McGee thought that Tony couldn't possibly get any cuter, he was proven wrong with another adorable act.  
  
Tony looked up at McGee and smacked his lips; his way of communicating that, yes, he wanted a snack.  
  
"Okay. Let me just take your new friend - just for a minute. We don't want to get crumbs all over him now, do we?"  
  
McGee gently pried the bear from Tony's arms. Tony whined, but didn't put up much of a fuss otherwise. He was still too afraid to act up. Tony was actually very well behaved. Knowing how he got to be that way, McGee almost wished he'd throw some kind of tantrum, just to show he was brave enough to do so.  
  
Instead, Tony sat up, watching with interest as McGee set up the tray table over his lap, then opened a bag of animal crackers, placing one in front of him.  
  
Tony looked from the animal cracker to McGee, whining pitifully.  
  
When Tony started to hyperventilate, McGee leaned forward, lightly rubbing his back in soothing circles until Tony's breathing eventually evened out again. Then, McGee sat up, holding Tony's arm's in a firm but loving grip, staring straight into innocent green eyes.  
  
"Tony, it would make me very happy if you could feed yourself the cookie. Would you do that for me?"  
  
Tony studied McGee's face suspiciously.  
  
"I promise, nothing bad will happen if you feed yourself. Can you be a big boy for me, Tony? Please?"  
  
Tony held his hand in front of his face, wiggling long fingers, as if he didn't know what to do with them anymore.  
  
"Here." McGee grabbed Tony's hand, placing it on the tray, with his palm facing up. He then put the animal cracker in Tony's hand and lifted it up to his face. Removing the cookie from Tony's hand, McGee finally popped it into Tony's mouth.  
  
"That taste good, Tony?" McGee asked. "You want more?"  
  
Tony kicked his feet and reached for the bag in McGee's hand.  
  
"Okay, hungry boy! Hold your horses," McGee laughed. Taking two animal crackers out of the bag, McGee placed one in front of Tony, and one in front of himself.  
  
"Now, watch carefully, and do what I do," McGee instructed, picking up an animal cracker.  
  
Tony panted and whined, looking at the cookie as if it were poison.  
  
"Go on," McGee urged, keeping his tone soft, patient and loving. "Be like me."  
  
Setting the animal cracker back down onto the tray, McGee once again picked it up, gripping with his index finger, middle finger and thumb.  
  
Slowly and cautiously, Tony let his fingers touch the animal cracker, glancing over at McGee to make sure it was all right. Once McGee gave an approving nod, Tony's fingers fumbled for a minute as he struggled to grab hold of the cookie. But eventually, he held it up in his shaking hand, hungrily licking his lips as he stared at the treat.  
  
"You can eat it if you want. I'm gonna eat mine." With that, McGee opened his mouth, letting out an exaggerated "Ahhh" as he gobbled up the snack  
  
Tony giggled, keeping a cautious eye on McGee the entire time as he brought the cookie to his lips and rested it there.  
  
"You can do it," McGee encouraged, rubbing Tony's knee.  
  
Tony gave McGee a tentative smile, tilting his head slightly as he examined McGee's features; as if trying to decide if this was a trick. Then, having finally made up his mind, he let the cookie disappear into his mouth.  
  
"You did it. I'm so proud of you," McGee praised softly, knowing that loud voices still frightened Tony. Holding his hands close together, he clapped them almost inaudibly, a big smile plastered across his face. He wanted to make absolutely sure that Tony knew just how happy and proud he was.  
  
Tony seemed to get the message, because he returned the smile, arms flapping happily at his sides.  
  
"You want another cookie?" McGee asked, holding up the bag.  
  
Tony squealed, his smile widening.  
  
McGee chuckled, placing another animal cracker on the tray.  
  
Tony was still slow, cautious and deliberate as he went to pick it up. But once it was in his hand, he quickly stuffed it into his mouth, shooting McGee a playful glance, with a grin to match it.  
  
"Very good," McGee laughed. "You've made me really happy today, Tony."  
  
Tony reached his arms out for a hug. And once McGee moved the tray table out of the way and sat down on the bed, he gladly accepted the invitation, leaning in and embracing his friend.  
  
As McGee rubbed Tony's back, he thought that it had been a good day. Tony gained back a bit of independence, and was starting to learn that he wouldn't be punished for acting on his own free will. These seemingly small events were actually huge breakthroughs, and McGee was certain this was only the beginning.  
  
"Wait til Jethro hears what you did today," McGee whispered into Tony's neck as he held him close. "He's gonna be so proud!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that Gibbs will have his big confrontation with Ziva in the next chapter. But with this chapter, I just felt the need for some sweetness and fluff. Also, I thought it would be nice to see Tony making some progress. It's small, but significant.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has left comments and kudos! They are the fuel that keeps me writing. I'm not sure I'd have the motivation to write past the first chapter if it weren't for your support. So thank you!


	15. Parting Words

 

 

Ziva tapped her fingers rapidly on her desk, eyes glazing over as she tried to focus on the latest cold case the team had been assigned.  
  
It didn't have to be like this, she thought. Had Gibbs still been running the team - and maybe hired someone to replace Tony - they could be out in the field, being useful. But it seemed that Ziva was the only one committed to the job. On his first day as "boss", McGee was still nowhere to be seen. Clearly, Gibbs had made a mistake leaving the team - if it could even be called that anymore - in his hands.  
  
Looking up, Ziva stared at Tony's desk; everything left exactly as it had been before he was kidnapped, like some sort of shrine. Even when Fornell was using Tony's computer during the investigation into his disappearance, he took care to make sure everything remained as it had been before.  
  
And for what? Yes, Tony was a capable agent. He was loyal and brave. (Though maybe "reckless" and "stupid" would have been better words.) What happened to him was unfortunate, but the fact was that the team had to rebuild. Sadly, Ziva didn't see that happening as long as Gibbs and McGee held this strange loyalty to Tony.  
  
_"This is ridiculous!"_ Ziva thought, sliding her chair back and standing. A little fresh air and some hot tea were in order, she thought. The mindless busy work would still be there when she got back.  
  
Stepping out from behind her desk, Ziva collided with Gibbs as she exited the bullpen.  
  
"You're damn lucky you didn't spill my coffee," he growled, glaring down at her. "You're in enough trouble as it is."  
  
Ziva had a pretty good idea what Gibbs was talking about, and she wasn't going to insult his intelligence or hers by feigning ignorance. Instead, she matched his glare, ignoring the statement altogether.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she demanded more than asked.  
  
"Sit down!" Gibbs ordered, with an aggressive shove.  
  
"I do not have time for this," Ziva hissed, pushing passed Gibbs.  
  
"Then you'll _make_ time, Agent David," Director Vance informed Ziva, coming up behind her. "You heard Special Agent Gibbs. Sit down!"  
  
Arms folded and jaw clenched tightly, Ziva stepped back behind her desk and dropped into her chair.  
  
"You wanna tell me why you called Tony's father?" Gibbs asked, standing in front of Ziva's desk. He seemed to tower over her; his glare burning into to her, angry, and more imposing than ever.  
  
"He deserved to know," Ziva said simply.  
  
"Based on everything you know about Tony's relationship with his father, what made you think it was a good idea to tell him?"  
  
"I admit that I do not know much about their relationship." Ziva's eyes lifted to meet Gibbs' glare. "And I know they are not close, but - "  
  
"They haven't spoken in 20 years. Did you know that?"  
  
"No," Ziva answered softly, lowering her gaze. "I was not aware of this."  
  
"You and your father aren't exactly on the best of terms," Vance pointed out. "So why interfere in DiNozzo's family affairs?"  
  
Ziva was silent for a moment, as if searching for an answer. She then looked up, her face a mask for false benevolence.  
  
"I had hoped - "  
  
"Save it!" Gibbs snapped. "I don't want to hear any of the lies you tell yourself to justify what you did. You've taken no interest in Tony's well being since we rescued him. So don't pretend that your reasons were anything but selfish!"  
  
"It is not that I do not care!" Ziva finally exploded, standing up. "Maybe I did not think things through, but I it was my intention to help Tony! It is terrible what happened to him, but he is not worth giving up your career for!"  
  
At that statement, Gibbs' glare turned deathly cold. "Hmm. You didn't seem to have a problem with us all putting everything on hold, risking our lives in Africa so that we could bring you back," Gibbs observed. "But wanting to take care of Tony - the most loyal, hard working, self-sacrificing agent I have ever worked with - that's not worth it?!"  
  
"I am not saying that!" Ziva shot back. "I am simply saying there are other ways of making sure Tony is well cared for. In our line of work, colleagues are put out of action all time time, be it from injury, trauma or death. That does not mean we stop working!"  
  
"Be that as it may, it wasn't your place to call DiNozzo's father," Vance said sternly.  
  
"But Director - "  
  
"I don't think your intentions were bad," Vance cut Ziva off. "But your reasons for calling Dinozzo's father were self serving. I think it was less about wanting to help DiNozzo than it was about wanting to get him out of the way."  
  
"I did not want him out of the way," Ziva protested. "I...I do not know what I wanted," she finally admitted. She didn't hate Tony, and she certainly took no pleasure in what had happened to him. But there was something about him that always brought out the worst in her; a cruel ugliness that, for whatever reason, she seemed to reserve only for him.  
  
Vance was right. Although Ziva didn't realize it at the time, her reasons for getting Tony's father involved were purely selfish.  
  
"This team has bent over backwards for you," Gibbs reminded Ziva. "We've used up valuable time and manpower, just to make sure you had a place on this team and a home in this country, and it's no secret that Tony played a big part in all of this."  
  
Gibbs was right, too. The team had been good to her. Far better than she deserved. She tried not to think about it; shielding herself in excuses and denial. Too proud to face the consequences of her own cruelty.  
  
It was uncomfortable for Ziva, being confronted by Gibbs and Vance. Forced to face the truth of her motivation, and the emotions she had being hiding away behind a mask of indifference; a mask so convincing that even she had grown to believe the lie.  
  
"Fine. I have been duly chastised. You have made your point," Ziva huffed. "Are you hoping I will quit now?"  
  
"Sure," Gibbs said, sounding almost cheery at the suggestion.  
  
"Gibbs!" Vance barked.  
  
Gibbs simply smirked.  
  
Vance turned back to Ziva, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "I'm asking you to take some time off. Take a week and think about if you really want to be here."  
  
Ziva could only nod, words failing her as she felt equal parts relieved, ashamed and grateful. To further complicate things, a part of her still stubbornly clung to the belief that she was right to act as she had.  
  
"But you need to know that if you do return, things can't continue as they have. Your father and I share a history, and because of that, maybe I've gone easier on you than I should have. But I'm seeing now that your behavior is not only upsetting and distracting to the team; it could also be potentially dangerous. Being a part of this team means working in cooperation with your team mates. It means that, more often than not, you'll end up taking orders, either from Gibbs or myself.  
  
"It means having each other's six," Gibbs added pointedly. "Tony understood this."  
  
Ziva couldn't help the wave of resentment that washed over her at those words. Still, she nodded in agreement. As much as she hated to admit it, Gibbs was right.  
  
Yes, she realized that she had been acting selfish and entitled. She also realized that any news she received about Tony had been met with cold indifference. Forced to face these truths, Ziva wasn't happy with herself.  
  
But at the same time, Ziva failed to understand this sudden respect and admiration everyone seemed to have for Tony. When did they start holding him up as some sort of great example of what an agent should be? Was it only because of what had happened to him? Was their guilt making them see qualities in Tony that were never there? Or were these qualities there all along, only to be missed now that he was gone?  
  
Knowing that her inner conflict was too overwhelming to deal with at the moment, Ziva decided it would be best to take Vance's advice; step away from the situation for awhile, do some honest self reflection, and listen to whatever answers her heart might give her.  
  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_  
  
Ziva really should have just gone home.  
  
Her mind and heart were still in conflict after her confrontation with Gibbs and Vance, and it probably would have been best for her to just spend some time alone and think.  
  
Instead, she found herself walking towards Tony's hospital room. Anxiety built in the pit of her stomach, and she had to force herself to breathe through the tightness in her chest.  
  
Keeping her distance, it had been easy for Ziva to convince herself that she was blameless. If she didn't have to come face to face with the man she had hurt in so many ways, she wouldn't have to admit to any wrongdoing. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Americans are so fond of saying.  
  
Ziva could rationalize all she wanted, saying it was not her who had raped and tortured Tony for months. But while that was true, she had played a part in making him feel alienated and isolated, to the point he would sooner confide in strangers at a bar than the team he was supposed to be able to count on.  
  
Ziva didn't know what she expected to get out of coming to visit Tony; mostly because she still didn't fully understand her own feelings on what had happened to him. Her mantra of "no regrets" had worked, so long as she didn't have to see Tony, and it certainly would have been easier to keep avoiding him. But she didn't enjoy the job anymore. She was hated by the team, and she felt painfully lonely. She found herself wondering why she wanted to stick around at all. Perhaps this visit was just what she needed to give herself some clarity, and help her decide where she needed to be.  
  
Ziva quietly knocked on Tony's door, then waited, listening for voices, or any sign that anyone was in there. She waited in the silence for a minute. Then, just as she was about to start walking away, she saw McGee come down the hall, pushing Tony in a wheelchair.  
  
"Ziva..." McGee murmured in surprise, slowing Tony's wheelchair down to a stop in front of the door.  
  
"McGee," Ziva nodded curtly.  
  
She then looked down at Tony; so thin and frail looking. So small, practically swimming in a set of blue pajamas that looked two sizes too big. The deep bruising on his wrists was only just starting to fade, as were the cuts and bruises on his arms. There was also visible bruising on his neck, fading from purple to a yellowish green, which drew attention to Tony's sunken features.  
  
"Hello, Tony," Ziva greeted, smiling awkwardly.  
  
Tony whined, frightened eyes looking up at McGee.  
  
Leaning over, McGee gave Tony a gentle hug, casting a cautiously suspicious glance Ziva's way as he did so.  
  
"Tony, it's okay. This is Ziva. She's your...friend."  
  
At that last word, Tony looked at McGee inquisitively.  
  
"Friend", McGee repeated, pointing to Ziva.  
  
Following the motion, Tony's eyes rested on Ziva, his mouth turned up into a small, tentative smile, and he gurgled softly.  
  
At that moment, Ziva wished she had stayed away. She thought it was an exaggeration when she heard her coworkers compare Tony to a baby. But there was no other way to describe him. Though Tony's familiar green eyes now looked up at Ziva, it was as though a stranger were staring right through her. There was no recognition in this boy's expression. Only fear and uncertainty.  
  
"You...uh...you wanna come in?" McGee asked, motioning with his head towards the door.  
  
Ziva could only nod, quietly following McGee and Tony into the room.  
  
"I just took Tony out for some fresh air," McGee explained. "He likes being in the garden."  
  
"That sounds nice," Ziva said, standing back and watching uncomfortably as McGee lifted Tony out of the wheelchair and placed him on the bed. Tony's thin arms wrapped around McGee's neck during the transfer. Green eyes stared up at the younger man in perfect trust. The scene made Tony look even more small and helpless.  
  
"Tony can not walk anymore?" Ziva inquired, disturbed at how light Tony appeared in McGee's arms.  
  
"He probably could if he wanted to," McGee answered, pulling the blankets up over Tony. "He hasn't tried. He's too afraid."  
  
"Tony is afraid to walk?" Ziva's asked in shocked disbelief.  
  
"Tony is afraid of everything. Haven't you been paying attention?" McGee glared.  
  
"Uh!" Tony grunted, kicking and holding his arms out.  
  
Not missing a beat, McGee quickly grabbed two stuff animals off of a nearby chair; a bear and a monkey. McGee than handed the toys to Tony, and he grabbed them up, one in each arm, happily squeezing them close to his body.  
  
"What do you want?" McGee asked, sitting on the bed beside Tony, and motioning for Ziva to sit on the chair where the stuffed animals had been.  
  
Ziva slumped into the chair, not realizing until she was down just how tired she was. Physically and emotionally drained.  
  
"Gibbs and the Director had a little talk with me this morning."  
  
"Yeah. I know," McGee drawled.  
  
"And it got me thinking. I...I have not been fair to Tony.  
  
McGee looked up at the Israeli, anger, confusion and concern written on his face. "Ziva..."  
  
"I know he was only looking out for me. As irritating as he could be, he meant well. I was just...I was confused and angry, and I needed someone to take it out on. And because Tony couldn't mind his own business - "  
  
"Like you said, he was just looking out for you," McGee cut Ziva off quickly. "He'd do the same for any of us, if he was worried we were in danger."  
  
"I know," Ziva sighed, watching the sweet boy in the bed study his teddy bear's face, tracing over its blue eyes and smiling. "This is not easy for me, Tim."  
  
For the first time since her arrival, Ziva saw McGee smile at her. More of a smug smirk, actually. But she'd take what she could get.  
  
"Are you apologizing?"  
  
"I...I do not know," Ziva stammered. "I think I might be trying to. Do...do you think that Tony would understand me if I did."  
  
McGee shrugged. "I'm not entirely clear on what he understands. I mean, he's good at picking up on emotions. He seems to know if someone is 'good' or 'bad', and he gets upset if people talk too loudly. Beyond that, I don't know."  
  
McGee ran a hand through Tony's hair, massaging the back of his head, and Tony leaned contentedly into the comforting touch.  
  
"I think it's worth a try, though."  
  
Sadly nodding, Ziva stood, tentatively taking the few steps to Tony's bed.  
  
"Tony," she addressed him, placing a hand on his arm. He responded by turning away from the touch, whimpering and hiding his face between his toys.  
  
"Tony, there's nothing to be afraid of," McGee reassured him, continuing to rub the back of his head. "Remember, Ziva is a friend."  
  
Green eyes peeked up from behind the synthetic fur, looking up at Ziva. She took that as permission to keep talking.  
  
"You are a good person, Tony," she told him, choosing to keep her hands in her lap, so that Tony would feel more at ease. "A good person, and a good friend."  
  
Tony continued to look up at her; eyes expressing no comprehension, but also no fear.  
  
"I am sorry about what happened to you," Ziva continued. "More importantly...I am sorry for hurting you in so many ways. It is inexcusable."  
  
Ziva looked down at her hands, feeling more ashamed than she could remember feeling in a long time.  
  
"Eh! Eh!"  
  
Ziva looked up to see Tony looking sadly at her, one arm extended, offering her the stuffed monkey.  
  
"Nuh!"  
  
"He's wants you to hug the monkey," McGee informed her with a grin.  
  
"Thank you," Ziva cooed, accepting the toy from Tony. "You are a sweet boy."  
  
Tony just smiled at her.  
  
"So, what now?" McGee asked, letting his hand drop to squeeze Tony's.  
  
"I am not sure yet," Ziva confessed. "I think that I should leave. I do not feel welcome on the team. And yes, I know that is my own doing. But I do more harm than good here, and I feel it would be best for everyone if I left."  
  
"Will you go back to Israel?"  
  
"No. I do not think I want that. I just need some time alone. I need to process everything that has happened to bring me to this point. Because I am not a good person, McGee. I am not kind. And I do not like that about myself." Ziva's voice cracked with emotion as she spoke.  
  
"Well, the first step is understanding that you need to change," McGee said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I'm proud of you for having that kind of self awareness."  
  
Ziva laughed awkwardly at the compliment, not quite sure how else to respond.  
  
"I will stay on to help you rebuild the team. Then, I will be going."  
  
"Okay," McGee nodded. "Um...thank you for coming in to check in on Tony. And for the apology. Even if he didn't understand it, I appreciate it."  
  
Ziva stood, giving the monkey back to Tony, who grabbed it back happily, smiling up at her.  
  
"You are welcome, Tim. And thank you for not turning me away when you saw me."  
  
"Hey. Tony wouldn't turn you away. He's always been a forgiving guy. I'm just trying to follow his example."  
  
"You are right about that." Ziva gave Tony an affectionate smile. "Goodbye, Tony."  
  
Tony rocked from side to side, hugging his stuffed animals.  
  
Ziva then looked up at McGee, catching him gazing with love at the older man.  
  
"Goodbye, McGee. I will see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yep. Take care, Ziva," McGee waved, watching her walk to the door.  
  
Standing in the doorway, looking back at the display of brotherly love, Ziva was sure she had made the right decision. Now, she could never hurt Tony again. And she would be leaving the team on good terms - at least with McGee and Tony. Gibbs, however, was a different story.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I surprised myself when I wrote this chapter. I am not a fan of Ziva, and I didn't expect to redeem her in any way. But I hated the way she was written on the show because she was never apologetic, and she never took responsibility for her terrible behavior. I wanted to change that here. I also wanted the other characters to call her out on her attitude, and the terrible ways she treated Tony. 
> 
> But redemption doesn't mean she gets to stay in the story. Bye bye, Ziva! ;)
> 
> Thank you so very much to everyone who has commented and left kudos! It means more to me than you realize that you are enjoying this story. It truly does!


	16. Conflicting Realities

 

 

"Well, here we are," Jethro announced, tilting Tony's wheelchair up slightly so he could get it through the door, which Tim was holding open. "Home, sweet home."

As Jethro wheeled him slowly around his new home, Tony looked around the place with a strange curiosity, and a troubling sense of security.

The dingy old couch, the old TV, even the curtains on the windows, all felt oddly familiar to Tony. As if this was a place he had known well. There was a comfortable familiarity here, oddly mixed with feelings of sadness and loss.

An image flickered briefly in Tony's mind, and he could see himself sitting on the couch with Jethro; watching a movie in black and white on the TV.

Then, as quickly as the image came, it vanished.

Tony's gaze turned to a piano, which stood in the corner of the room.

_"That doesn't belong here."_

Wait! How would Tony know that? He squeezed his stuffed bear - who he had named Jethro - close to his body, in an attempt to calm himself.

Tony's head hurt. It was as if some sad dream was knocking within his subconscious, trying to make itself a part of Tony's reality. He shook his head and whimpered, overwhelmed.

Tony flinched a little when he felt the familiar touch of Jethro's hand on his shoulder.

"Hey. You okay, Tony?"

Tony could only cry softly into his stuffed bear. He didn't know if he was okay, or if he ever would be. He remembered being "born" as a pet. Beaten, tortured, fucked, hugged, cuddled and taken care of by Master Mark. He remembered being cradled in his Master's arms, eating out of his hand. The same hand that might moments later beat him unconscious for eating too eagerly, claiming that Tony "lacked gratitude."

He remembered that frigid basement, and his hard mattress. He remembered being cold and naked; frozen chains chaffing his skin and a collar around his neck, which often left him breathless.

The next thing Tony remembered was falling to the floor, sobbing into his hands as his Master was taken away from him. Then, he remembered Jethro's calming presence, and the way the older man lifted him onto the soft couch and wrapped him in a warm blanket.

Tony remembered the hospital, and the new friends who, along with Jethro, treated him with a love he knew he didn't deserve.

Something had always felt a little off about the way they acted towards him, though. It was like they weren't themselves. Like they were playing pretend. But Tony felt so happy, showered in their love and kindness, that he didn't dare to question it too much.

But now, in this new place, these feelings were becoming harder to ignore. How could this all feel perfectly normal, yet at the same time completely strange?

Jethro brought Tony's wheelchair to a stop in a small room. In the middle of the room was a double bed, covered in a baby blue comforter that looked very soft. On the left hand side of the bed was a nightstand with an alarm clock and a bottle of lotion on it. On the same side of the bed, a few feet in front of the nightstand, was a large, comfortable looking easy chair. On the opposite side of the bed, in front of the window, was a table with a package of diapers, wipes, a changing pad and some ointment on it.

"This was a study," Jethro explain, swiveling Tony's wheelchair around so that they were facing Tim. "Haven't used it in years, though, so I converted it into a bedroom for Tony."

Though Jethro wasn't addressing Tony, he still listened intently, wondering if this was the reason Jethro hadn't been to the hospital as much recently.

Looking just beyond Tim, something next to the doorway caught Tony's eye. A guitar case, leaning against the wall. Like the piano in the living room, it seemed familiar, yet out of place, and Tony once again found himself dizzy and overwhelmed; his life feeling like a bizarre illusion.

Clutching his bear tightly, Tony eyed the bed. A nap sounded really good to him right now. Maybe once he woke up, things would make sense. Maybe things would feel they were as they should be.

Reaching out one arm, Tony grabbed onto Tim's pant leg, whining desperately.

Tim smiled, removing Tony's hand from his leg and grabbing hold of it with both of his own hands. "What do you need, buddy?"

Tony looked over at the bed, his whines increasing in volume and desperation.

"You want to go to sleep?"

Tony quieted, just a little, managing a faint smile. He had been understood.

Tim smiled back, his face lit up with the warmth of a loving big brother. So why did Tony feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes, as an image played in his mind of that same mouth turned up into a derisive smirk, mocking him?

"I know that new situations can be scary sometimes. But you're safe here", Jethro tried to reassure Tony, leaning in to pick him up.

Tony outstretched his arms, wrapping them around Jethro's neck and allowing himself to be lifted, then placed ever so gently onto the bed.

"Rest, Tony. You'll feel better when you wake up," Jethro said, pulling the blankets up over Tony and wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth.

Tony forced a smile, trying to take comfort in the sensation of Jethro's lips kissing his forehead. He hoped that Jethro was right. Because at the moment, Tony was feeling very confused. His thoughts were spiraling out of control, and he didn't know what was real anymore.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Tony opened his eyes, waking to the soft smacking of Jethro's lips as he sipped his morning coffee. The sound itself was enough to call attention to Tony's full bladder, and before he realized what was happening, he felt a warm stream of urine between his legs. He'd gotten used to going in his diaper. Not that he didn't sometimes wish to be allowed a little dignity and use the toilet. But his experience had proven far too traumatic.

First, there was Master Mark's rough manhandling; the way he'd dig his nails into Tony's member as he urinated.

Then there was the loud, mocking laughter of his Masters as they watched him groan out his bowel movements.

In his time as Mark's pet, Tony had learned that wearing a diaper was preferable. It was far less humiliating than being forced to "perform"; relieving himself for the amusement of others. And since he had been naked most of the time, the soft diaper swaddling his bottom provided a sort of comfort. It felt good to be covered, if only a little.

Now fully clothed in warm pajamas, tucked snugly under blankets, Tony still preferred to wear a diaper. Using the toilet never ended well for him.

Even the one time Jethro tried to get him to use the toilet, Tony managed to screw things up and make him angry.

Tony supposed it was his own fault. He had grabbed at Jethro's hand, instead of letting the older man grab on to Tony himself. As a result, he had angered Jethro, and would probably never be offered the chance again.

It was just as well. Jethro and Tim were both gentle and kind when they changed Tony. There was no yelling, laughing or shaming, and they always had Tony in a fresh diaper before his dirty one had a chance to get cold.

Looking over at the older man, who sat lost in the book he was reading, Tony wanted desperately to get his attention. He wanted to say "good morning", and let him know that he was wet.

But every time Tony attempted to speak, it was the same story. Muscle memory kicked in, and suddenly he felt the choke collar tightening around his throat, cutting off his air supply. So the words never came. No matter how kind anyone was to him, Tony thought back on Mark. Mark had taught Tony his place. He was nothing more than a disgusting pig, and it was in his best interest to just shut up and take what he was given.

"Buh!" Was all Tony could manage to get out, before fear took over and his voice gave out on him.

Jethro looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Tony."

Tony couldn't help but to kick his feet happily. It was the only way he knew to express how glad he was to see the older man, since his fearful voice constantly betrayed him.

Watching Jethro stand, Tony held his arms out for a hug. Jethro was nice. Tony always felt safe when he was around.

As the silver haired man leaned in and hugged him, Tony breathed in his unique scent; a delicious combination of coffee and sawdust. It seemed somehow familiar, and Tony found himself continuously frustrated that he couldn't recall the place Jethro may or may not have held in his life before. But he couldn't get past the feeling that they meant something to each other in some previous existence; that maybe they had been important to one another.

Yet there were moments - moments when Jethro had to leave, or when he seemed distracted by something else - when Tony feared the affection he felt was one-sided.

With that fear once again dominating Tony's thoughts, he squeezed tightly; holding on to Jethro for dear life.

 _"Please don't go! Please don't go! Please don't go!"_ he silently begged, while at the same time wondering why Jethro was wasting his time on a pig like him in the first place.

Tony hadn't realized he had been crying until Jethro gently extracted himself from the hug and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb.

"Hey now. No need for tears," Jethro cooed, his voice causing Tony to feel warm all over. "Just let me get you changed, and then we can snuggle. How does that sound?"

Tony gurgled, looking up at Jethro with big green eyes as he kicked and wiggled. Jethro chuckled fondly, and Tony knew he had been a good boy. Responding with this type of wordless display always seemed to bring out Jethro's gentle side, making Tony feel loved and cared for.

And it was that same feeling that reinforced Tony's fear of speaking. Jethro could leave at any time. In fact, Tony had a strong feeling that he _had_ left Tony at some point; the memory buried so deeply that it had been lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter written. My computer died, and it was awhile before it could get fixed. Even now, it keeps freezing up and I have to restart it. I hope I can get the issue fixed once and for all, because I really can't afford a new computer right now. Anyway, enough of my bitching. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that it answered any questions you might have had about what Tony is thinking, and why he behaves the way he does.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, I hope the wait was worth it.


	17. New Life

It all started with boxes.

 

The morning had started off pleasantly enough. After a nice snuggle with Jethro, Tony was feeling calm, safe and settled. And the promise of getting to eat breakfast at the table - a privilege Tony knew he wasn't worthy of - filled him with a curious excitement as to what this new life might hold for him.

 

But as Jethro wheeled him out of his bedroom and into the living and dining area, he couldn't ignore the boxes, sitting in corners and stacked up on tables. The sight caused Tony's stomach to flip, as sadness and rage overwhelmed him, and images of another time and place once again assaulted him.

 

_Tony was standing in an orange room, looking in stunned devastation at a desk, unceremoniously littered with boxes. At another desk, Jethro looked up smugly at Tony, any smirk he might be wearing obscured by a hideous, walrus-like mustache._

_Beside Tony, Tim and that Ziva woman beamed, their faces the picture of infuriating glee._

_All of it - this entire scene - was at Tony's expense. He would never be worthy of their friendship or respect. And Jethro was going to make sure Tony knew just how insignificant he was._

 

"Tony? You with me?" Jethro asked, pulling Tony out of his trance.

 

Tony looked up at Jethro, suddenly feeling very differently towards the older man. Looking up into those cool blue eyes, Tony no longer saw love or warmth. Instead, he saw judgement. He saw resentment. He saw hatred and mocking. There was never truly any kindness in Jethro's actions. He simply wanted to keep Tony calm and docile. A good pet; one he could control.

 

And as this realization hit Tony, all of his fear and insecurity was extinguished, replaced by a fire of pure, burning rage.

 

Without a thought, Tony lifted his arm and weakly punched Jethro in the face. In Tony's current state, it was little more than a tap. But the action shocked Jethro enough to send him staggering back a step.

 

"Tony. What's gotten into you?" Jethro asked, staring at Tony with a look of hurt, and...anger? Tony couldn't be sure. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. Still angry and confused, but also scared. He had struck Jethro. Who knew what the consequences would be?

 

"Tony." Jethro clasped his hands, blue eyes staring into green, calmer than Tony expected, or thought he deserved. "Tony, I'm not mad. But I am worried. I just wish I knew what was wrong. I want to help."

 

Tony looked down, chin to his chest, whimpering. He didn't know what was wrong, either, or even if what he was "remembering" had actually happened. All he knew was that he was scared, angry, and more frustrated than he could remember feeling in a long time. Unsure what to believe, how to feel, or who to trust.

 

"B-b-box," Tony stuttered, almost inaudibly, the word seemingly leaving his mouth without permission.

 

Great! Now he'd really done it! Even if Jethro wasn't mad at Tony for hitting him, he certainly wouldn't be happy about Tony speaking - a right he had not yet earned.

 

Eyes focused on his lap, Tony could feel his chest become heavy, and his breathing more labored, in anticipation of whatever punishment Jethro might have in store for him.

 

Feeling Jethro's hand on his chin, Tony let out a squeaky whimper, shutting his eyes tightly.

 

"Hey. Don't be afraid, Tony. I'm not mad," Jethro said softly, his tone surprisingly kind, as he gently tapped under Tony's chin, lifting the younger man's face to meet his gaze. "As a matter of fact, I'm real proud of you."

 

Tony blinked up at Jethro, confused. Did Jethro really just say he was proud of Tony? The words didn't feel right. It was like Tony was imagining them, or they were meant for someone else.

 

"Don't look so surprised," Jethro laughed. "I really am proud of you. That's a big deal, saying that first word."

 

Tony looked down, giving Jethro a small, embarrassed smile.

 

"Tony, can say a few more words?" Jethro asked, lightly squeezing Tony's shoulder. "What's got you so upset?"

 

Hugging himself, Tony rocked from side to side, feeling entirely overwhelmed. He didn't know what he was feeling, exactly, let alone how to express it. And the connection between his brain and mouth felt somewhat severed, leaving him unsure exactly how to form any words that might come to him.

 

Jethro smiled patiently, rubbing Tony's back in soothing circles. Slowly, Tony's breathing steadied, and he was once again able to look up and face the older man. When he did, his gaze was met with cool blue eyes and a crooked grin.

 

"Take your time, Tony. I'm not going anywhere."

 

Tony still felt unsure. This could very well be a trick. Jethro still might punish him. But he sounded so proud and sincere, and Tony couldn't risk disappointing him. He would just have to take the chance, and hope it pleased Jethro.

 

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Tony hoped that he would be able to voice his feelings without completely embarrassing himself.

 

"Box," he said again, the word feeling strange and foreign coming out of his mouth, as if someone else were speaking for him.

 

Tony then looked up into Jethro's expectant eyes, reaching a hand up and tapping his chest.

 

"You."

 

Tony slowly moved his hand up to Jethro's face, holding his hand over Jethro's upper lip.

 

"S-st-Stash."

 

Tony closed his eyes again, holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth. Trying to decide what words should come next.

 

Finally looking up again, he pounded on his chest a few times.

 

"M-me...ss-s-sad." Tony whispered, a heartbreaking crack straining his voice.

 

Collapsing back into his wheelchair, Tony began sobbing softly; the effort of verbally expressing these new and confusing feelings proving too much for him.

 

Apart from Tony's cries, things were unsettlingly quiet. He was almost afraid to look up at Jethro, for fear of what he might see.

 

But to Tony's surprise, when he finally did look up at Jethro, he saw the man had gone pale, a look of guilt and regret haunting his features.

 

"You're starting to remember things." It was more a statement than a question.

 

Tony just whimpered.

 

Jethro sighed, stepping behind Tony's wheelchair and pushing him up to the kitchen table. He then pulled out a chair for himself, turning Tony so he was facing him before sitting down too.

 

"We've known each other a long time, Tony," Jethro began, clasping the younger man's hands. "And I respect the hell out of you. I never told you, but..."

 

Tony watched with confused curiosity. Jethro seemed to be struggling to find the right words; his eyes practically begging Tony for forgiveness.

 

"I've been a real bastard," Jethro continued. "And I'm ashamed to say that, if you hadn't been kidnapped, things probably wouldn't be any different now. I'm sorry you had to go through the hell you did for me to realize how important you are to me.

 

"You might hate me for the things you're starting to remember. Hell, after awhile, I doubt you'll want anything to do with me. But I need you to understand that I'm willing to spend he rest of my life making up for the way I treated you. I'm gonna take good care of you, Tony. And I never want you to feel threatened by, or afraid of me."

 

Tony hummed, giving Jethro's hands a weak squeeze. As upset as he was, for some reason, he couldn't argue the sincerity in Jethro's words.

 

"And don't forget, you have friends who care about you, and will look out for you. Matter of fact, some of them will be over later, to help get you moved in."

 

Jethro tousled Tony's hair lightly, then continued to lovingly massage his scalp. "Now, I don't care what those bastards Mark and Kyle told you. I know they did a number on you, but I don't want you to believe a word that came out of their mouths. You're a special guy, Tony. Never forget that."

 

Tony leaned into the touch, Jethro's hand feeling strong and reassuring on his head. Whatever had happened in the past, it was clear now that Jethro loved him very much.

 

Jethro chuckled, standing up and kissing the top of Tony's. "That's my good boy."

 

Tony giggled, clapping his hands. Hey was a good boy! Jethro said so!

 

Panic briefly gripped Tony as Jethro walked away from him. But when he saw the older man open the cupboard and take out a couple of bowls, his fears were put to rest. Jethro was simply preparing breakfast. He was going to feed Tony. Jethro always took such good care of Tony.

 

Tony gasped, eyes widening slightly as the realization hit him; he thought of Jethro as his daddy. Warm, loving and protective of Tony. The gentle care he showed betraying any fear that remained from Tony's time as Mark and Kyle's pet.

 

"Hope you don't mind cereal. I didn't have a chance to get to the store before you came home," Jethro said apologetically, pouring some cornflakes into the bowls.

 

Tony didn't mind at all. He was just happy to be sharing a meal with Jethro.

 

Watching Jethro approach the table with their breakfast, Tony tried to reconcile the feelings of hurt brought on by his new memories with the feelings of complete adoration and trust he currently felt for Jethro.

 

Looking into those kind blue eyes, Tony made up his mind. The past was just that. Jethro shouldn't be judged for what had already happened and couldn't be changed. What mattered was the present; the man who had saved Tony, cared for him and had given him a new home...and a new life.

 

"You wanna try feeding yourself? I could teach you to use the spoon if you like," Jethro offered, holding up the utensil for him.

 

Tony whined, opening his mouth receptively. The effort of talking had already taken a lot out of him, and right now, he just wanted to be babied.

 

The brief flashes of his past that Tony had gotten confirmed one thing: he was in no hurry to go back to being the man that he was. And he was in no hurry to remember his old life.

 

As Jethro smiled with loving patience, spooning some cereal into Tony's waiting mouth, Tony decided that he was going to actively reject any more memories that might try to resurface. This was a fresh start for both of them.

 

Tony was happy in this new life, safe with a daddy who loved him. And he was content to remain Jethro's little boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the long delay between chapters. It's been weeks since I had an actual computer, and I had to write this chapter on my phone.  
> Unfortunately, no computer also means I've fallen behind on reading fan fiction. But I'll be getting a new computer this week, and I look forward to catching up with my reading list! And also updating my own stories in a more timely manor. :) 
> 
> As for Tony rejecting his memories, and refusing to "grow up", don't worry. It's only temporary. At this point in the story, facing his past, and who is used to be, is too painful for him. But he'll come around eventually. By the end of the story, he'll be a happy integration of both versions of himself - which I think is the happiest, most realistic outcome of his ordeal.
> 
> Also, I decided to set up an account on Twitter, to share my progress and random thoughts. Would love to see some of you follow me there! :)
> 
> https://twitter.com/ThePeachyMonkey


	18. Safe With You

 Tony choked and coughed, feeling as though he were drowning in a sea of blue. His chest felt heavy, every breath taking all of his minimal strength. Panic gripped him as his world, bathed in blue, grew blurry around him.

Faceless figures in masks appeared at Tony's bedside. Urging him to breathe (easier said than done). Checking the machines he was hooked up to. Offering him words of comfort that they didn't seem to believe.

Through the foggy blue haze, Tony then saw Jethro, standing just at the edge of his vision. And he felt suddenly comforted. With Jethro around, Tony didn't need to feel scared.

"J- ehhhh...Tony rasped breathlessly, hand reaching out weakly for the older man.

Jethro just glared at him, looking disappointed, then slowly turned and left.

Tony felt the weight on his chest grow heavier. The skin on his head felt tight, and he grew dizzy.Feeling tears sting his eyes, Tony watched the departing figure. The man who was all he had in the world.

Tony coughed and sobbed. Jethro leaving had set off something in him, and he suddenly found himself thrashing and screaming; calling out again and again for the one who had left him.

"Jeh-ro! Jeh...Jeh..."

Feeling the bed dip, Tony's blue world turned bright again, and he found himself in his room; sunlight streaming through the window illuminating  
Jethro’s face.

Sobbing, Tony collapsed into Jethro's arms. He hadn't left after all!

"It's okay, Tony. I got you," Jethro soothed, rubbing Tony's back as he held him close. "You wanna tell me what happened? Did you have a bad dream?"

Tony nodded into Jethro's chest. "Byue yights."

Jethro pulled back, staring at Tony inquisitively. "What's that?"

"Byue." Tony grabbed at his blue comforter. "Yights." He then motioned toward the lamp on the nightstand. "Byue Yights!"

" 'Blue lights' ," Jethro whispered, looking thoughtful and serious.

Tony nodded, once again burying his face in Jethro's chest. "Scared."

"Poor boy," Jethro sighed sadly, massaging the back of Tony's neck. "You must have been dreaming of when you had the plague."

"Sick?" Tony asked, voice muffled with his face buried as it was in Jethro's shirt.

"You were sick," Jethro confirmed, kissing Tony's head. "But you got better. Because you're strong."

Tony wasn't convinced. He didn't feel very strong. But he still gave Jethro a proud smile.

"You don't need to be afraid anymore." Jethro pulled back, holding Tony's face in his hands and wiping away Tony's tears with his thumb. "But if you are, that's okay. Being scared doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. And you know what? Sometimes I get scared too."

Tony looked at Jethro incredulously. He had a hard time believing Jethro was scared of anything.

"It's true!" Jethro insisted. "For example, if anything happened to you, I'd be so scared, I wouldn't know what to do!"

Tony bit his lower lip, rocking back and forth. "M-Mark...hurt me. I...scared. No r-reason st-ong. I f-fink no one...yuv me. No...one yook for me."

The words came out slow and deliberate, punctuated by sobs and coughs. Tony still wasn't used to speaking. Putting together a coherent thought took a lot of effort, and the heavy emotions he was feeling at the moment weren't helping.

Jethro sighed, and for a moment, it looked like he might cry. "Tony, in the entire time you were gone, we never stopped looking for you. Not just me. All of your friends. We wanted nothing more than to bring you back safely to us."

Tony shifted himself onto Jethro's lap and leaned his head against Jethro's shoulder. Somehow, it just felt right.

  
And then, he cried. He cried and he didn't stop. Couldn't stop, because he had never thought anyone could possibly care anything about him. These people - virtual strangers to Tony - had come to his rescue, treating him with such gentle kindness. And yet, these images that had been flashing through Tony's mind with greater frequency (memories?) showed Tony repeated instances of cruelty and disregard. Tony was having a hard time reconciling that with the kind man whose arms he was now cradled in. All Tony knew was that this was real. This was certain. This was a reality that couldn't be questioned.

Tony nuzzled his face into Jethro's shoulder, "I...yuv y-you," he whispered innocently.

Tony could feel Jethro’s breath hitch, and for a moment, he could swear to older man was crying too.

Jethro squeezed Tony closer, gently rocking him. He kissed the top of Tony’s head, and there was no questioning the affection behind the gesture.

"I love you too, Tony,” Jethro choked out, voice thick with emotion. “I love you too.”

  
The two stayed like that for some time; Tony breathing in Jethro’s scent. Feeling safe, loved, and the happiest he could remember feeling in his life.

Then, Tony felt Jethro shift, slowly manipulating Tony’s body out of his arms , while still holding him upright.

Looking at Jethro with big, green cow eyes and a pout, Tony saw his caregiver’s lips twist up into a regretful smile.

“Don’t look at me at that,” Jethro chuckled, ruffling tony’s hair. “Much as I’d like to stay in bed and cuddle with you all day, Ducky and Jimmy have offered to come and make dinner for us.”

Tony’s face lit up. He liked Ducky and Jimmy. They were always nice to him. In fact, though Tony’s mind was foggy, and his memory was questionable at best, they were the only two people that Tony believed had never been mean to him.

 

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

 

Dinner was a success. It wasn’t just the delicious stew Ducky had made, or the fresh baked bread Jimmy contributed to the meal.

There was a normalcy. A familial comfort Gibbs felt in sharing a meal with these people. Ducky was a welcome presence; someone who could keep Tony calm and settled.

As for Jimmy, Gibbs was gaining a new respect and appreciation for him. He had learned that Jimmy was a good friend to Tony in the time before his abduction. Possibly the only true friend he’d really had, Gibbs admitted to himself sadly.

Dirty dishes now sat piled in the sink. They could wait until after Tony had been put to bed. Right now, all that mattered was enjoying the moment.

 

  
Gibbs sat beside Ducky on the couch – Gibbs with a beer, Ducky with tea – observing the touching sight before them.

Tony was drawing at the kitchen table. Sitting next to him, Jimmy looked on, asking questions and offering praise.

“Tony is doing well,” Ducky observed, taking a sip of tea. “Saying his first words, getting bits of his memory back. He’s come a long way since his rescue.”

Gibbs nodded, swallowing his beer. “Yeah, but mentally, he’s basically a kid. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m supposed to talk to him.”

Ducky gazed at the “boy” who sat scribbling at the table with a glassy eyed smile. “Yes, well, after the horrors poor Tony was forced to endure, I suppose this mental regression shouldn’t surprise us."  
  
Gibbs leaned forward, remaining silent for a moment as he went over the events of the day. Trying to make sense of where things stood between Tony and himself.

“I told him I love him, Duck,” Gibbs confessed. And somehow, admitting this to his friend was both terrifying and liberating. “I haven’t said that to anyone since…since Shannon and Kelly.”

Ducky gave Gibbs a meaningful look, understanding the profound significance of the declaration. Thankfully, the questions this declaration inevitably raised remained unasked. In all honesty, Gibbs wasn’t sure he had an answer for them at this point anyway.

“I’m glad you have let him into your heart,” Ducky simply said, requiring no further explanation from Gibbs.

Gibbs fought back the tears that were threatening to escape his eyes. What kind of a life was Tony going to have now? And would Gibbs be able to provide him with all the care he required if he never “grew up”? Gibbs liked to think that someday a switch would flip, and Tony would once again be some version of the man he was before. But the reality was that nothing was certain. He’d need to be prepared for any outcome.

“Come see!” Tony called loudly, startling Gibbs out of his thoughts. He was waving a piece of paper, face lit up proudly.

Gibbs exchanged a small grin with Ducky, and both men stood up and walked over to get a better look at Tony’s masterpiece.

Once Gibbs had reached Tony, the younger man handed him the drawing, looking up at him expectantly.

It was a simple drawing. Something a child might draw. But the image was clear and powerful. One figure, obviously Tony, was drawn very small. Encircling him in a warm , protective hug was Gibbs’ silver haired image, drawn much larger. As plain as the drawing was, the love and complete trust communicated couldn’t have been more obvious. And as Gibbs’ looked down at it, he felt a lump forming in his throat, and a traitorous tear falling down his cheek.

“Daddy.” Tony’s tone was timid and tentative, as if asking permission.

Gibbs had to admit he was surprised at being given such a title. Part of him was flattered that Tony felt such an unconditional love for him. The other part wasn’t entirely sure he felt comfortable with Tony thinking of him as a parental figure. Not because he didn’t love Tony, but because he was questioning the nature of his love for Tony. But he knew that, at this point in Tony’s recovery, for his love to be anything other than parental in nature would be wildly inappropriate.

So Gibbs simply leaned over and gave Tony a kiss on the cheek and a gentle hug, making the two of them look very much like Tony’s drawing.

“Thank you, Tony,” Gibbs whispered as he held his former agent. “This is really good!”

As Gibbs held Tony, he thought of the young detective he met in Baltimore. The NCIS agent who continually made him proud. The man who he had nearly lost to death on more than one occasion. The same man who bravely saved Gibbs’ own life. A man who had his six no matter how badly Gibbs mistreated him. A man who would take a bullet for Gibbs, even when he didn’t deserve it.

A man crying out silently for help. For someone to pull him out of his own spiral of darkness. A man taken, tortured and raped; the hell he had been forced to live through so traumatic, he regressed into the little boy who now clung to Gibbs.

And Gibbs’ heart broke. The love that he felt for Tony so strong, it was overwhelming. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to love like this. He forgot how helpless love could make him feel.

Lost in thought, the unexpected sound of the doorbell surprised Gibbs more than it probably should have, and he startled at the sound. Unfortunately, his reaction seemed to communicate clearly to Tony that he should be afraid. Whimpering and shaking in Gibbs’ arms, Tony held him tighter, rocking nervously as he did so.

"It's okay, Tony," Gibbs whispered, freeing himself from Tony’s embrace and handing the drawing – now slightly crumpled – off to Ducky. “That’s probably a friend at the door. You just stay here with Jimmy and Ducky, and I’ll be right back. Can you do that for me?”

“Story?” Tony asked, looking at Jimmy hopefully.

“Sure,” Jimmy agreed, smiling. “I’d be happy to read you a story.”

“And I can make a cup of hot chocolate for you. Would you like that, Tony?”

“Yeah!” Tony clapped, grinning.

“Okay,” Gibbs chuckled. "You guys have fun. I’ll be back in a minute to join you.”

Making his way to the door, Gibbs’ gut churned. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and anyone who might come knew to call ahead. And they knew not to ring the doorbell. Having only been home a day, the sound still frightened Tony.

Looking back to make sure Tony was properly distracted, Gibbs slowly opened the door. Standing before him was one of the last people he wanted to see.

“What the hell are you doing here?”


	19. Simple and Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally have a working computer again! Do you realize what a pain it is to write chapters on the phone or iPad? Putting them online is even more of a pain. But if I'd waited to update until I had a working computer again, it would have been months between chapters, and I didn't want to do that to you.
> 
> Anyway, I have my computer back, good as new (better, even), and it's been working without any problems for a week now. So I hope to be able to update more consistently now. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

 

Gibbs stared at the smug smile plastered across the face of Anthony DiNozzo Senior. A man who just weeks ago had hollered threats at him. Worse than that, he had terrified his son and made him cry.

Yet here he stood now at Gibbs' doorstep, addressing Gibbs with a forced friendliness that might fool most. But not the man entrusted to look out for Tony's safety and well being.

"Special Agent Gibbs!" the older man's voice boomed. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by, but I wanted to apologize in person for my behavior the last time we saw each other."

Gibbs glanced back in the direction of the kitchen before stepping out and closing the door behind him. Tony was happy at the moment, and Gibbs would not allow the man who had beaten and then abandoned him as a child to ruin that.

"How did you get this address?" Gibbs growled.

"Oh, I've had it for weeks," Senior replied casually. "Your agent, Ziva, gave it to me when we spoke. She insisted you were the man to talk to about reconnecting with my son."

"Former agent," Gibbs said curtly. "Ziva David is no longer part of my team."

"Oh, that's a shame," Senior said, his mouth turning into a slight frown.

"What do you want?"

"Well, to see my son, of course!" Senior held up a hand, indicating he had more to say, before Gibbs could interrupt him. "I realize I may have come on a little strong last time, and I regret that I ended up frightening Tony. That was never my intention. I just...Agent Gibbs, I hadn't seen my son in 20 years, and we didn't exactly end things on a good note. And I admit, after Tony's mother died, I wasn't the best father to him."

"Tony told me you beat him," Gibbs fumed, giving Senior a deathly glare.

Senior, looking down at his hands, started nervously rubbing them together. "Junior was always very attached to his mother. Back then, I was always working, and barely had time for my family. Then, when my wife died, and I was left to raise my son on my own, I realized I was a virtual stranger to him. We both had trouble adjusting. Junior missed his mother, and was always crying. I was overwhelmed and didn't know what I was doing, and I took my frustrations out on him."

Finally, Senior looked up at Gibbs. Gibbs noted with satisfaction that the older man seemed slightly intimidated by his glare.

"I'm not proud of what I did. These last 20 years, I never made an effort to reach out to my son because I was too ashamed to face him. I knew I could never make up for the way I treated him, and I didn't think he would ever forgive me. But when I heard about what happened to him, I thought 'maybe now I have a chance to make it up to him. Maybe I can be the father I couldn't be back then.' "

Gibbs scrubbed his face, resting his hand over his mouth as he considered Senior's words. His gut instinct told him that Senior was telling the truth. Just not _all_ of the truth. And it was the things Senior _wasn't_ saying that worried Gibbs.

Still, Gibbs knew that the elder DiNozzo wasn't going to just go away. Gibbs was going to need to give some serious thought to how he was going to handle this situation. His first instinct was to do everything he could to keep Senior away from Tony. But he should probably get an outside opinion before making any big decisions.

"Tony just came home from the hospital yesterday," Gibbs informed Senior. "We're still establishing a routine. I think that bringing a new person into the mix now -"

"I'm not 'a new person'! I'm his father!" Senior roared indignantly.

"Tony probably doesn't remember that," Gibbs said, his tone clipped and even. "I'm not saying you can't see him. I'm just saying to give it some time."

Senior grumbled, but nodded agreeably.

"Is there a number I can reach you at?" Gibbs asked.

Reaching into his pocket, Senior presented a business card to Gibbs. "I look forward to hearing from you."

Gibbs simply nodded, then opened the door and walked back inside, leaving Senior speechless at the doorstep.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Entering the kitchen, Gibbs' heart warmed at the sight of Tony listening intently as Jimmy read to him from _the Wizard Of Oz_. The warmth in Gibbs' heart increased to a swelling of affection that nearly brought him to tears once Tony noticed him, and Jimmy, knowing story time was now effectively over, closed the book with a smile.

"Daddy!" Tony exclaimed, reaching out his arms as Gibbs took Jimmy's place in the chair beside Tony.

Gibbs leaned forward, hugging Tony tightly. Unwittingly, Gibbs had allowed Tony to claim an important place in his heart. This "boy" trusted Gibbs implicitly, and Gibbs would fight to protect Tony with everything he had! The confrontation with Senior just moments before had simply reminded him that Tony was family worth fighting for.

"Who...c-come?" Tony asked into Gibbs' shoulder.

"No one important," Gibbs answered as he pulled back from the hug. Noticing the uncertainty in Tony's features, he elaborated. "Just someone asking for directions."

Tony smiled at Gibbs with an open innocence, and Gibbs felt a twinge of guilt in his heart at being less than honest about Senior, and the potential threat he might pose. He didn't have long to dwell on this guilt, though, as Ducky soon called to them cheerfully from the stove.

"Who wants some hot chocolate?"

"Me!" Tony clapped happily. "Hot co-co-yat!"

"Of course, dear boy. Here you are," Ducky laughed fondly, placing Tony's sippy cup, which was designed to hold hot liquids, in front of him.

Since Tony was still getting used to moving his body independently, his muscle coordination was sometimes off, making the special cup a necessity. Fortunately, he was too emotionally "young" to care.

"And what about the two of you?" Ducky asked, looking from Gibbs to Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Mallard."

"None for me, thanks," Gibbs politely declined, anticipating that Tony would need his full attention.

As it turned out, Gibbs' instincts were correct. Tony sat, staring at the cup and whining. Then, he looked up at Gibbs with big, pleading green eyes.

"Hep pyease?"

"I'll help you if you really need it. But I want you to try drinking without my help first. I really think you can do this on your own," Gibbs encouraged, moving the cup a little closer to Tony.

"B-but...if...I..." Tony stammered between sniffles and hiccups.

"The lid on the cup is keeping the liquid in. So even if you drop the cup, you won't spill anything," Gibbs reassured Tony. "Well, maybe a few drops."

"If I...dop...you won' b-be mad?" Tony asked, looking at Gibbs tentatively.

"Nah. I won't be mad," Gibbs promised as, hand over hand, he placed Tony's hands around the handles on either side of the cup. "I'll be proud of you for trying."

Tony's lower lip wobbled a little, and he gave Gibbs a teary-eyed smile as the older man let go. Then, putting all of his focus on the cup, he slowly brought it up to his mouth.  
Gibbs' heart leapt with pride when the spout touched Tony's lips, and Tony tilted his head back, drinking down the sweet liquid.

"I did it!" Tony exclaimed, once he had carefully set the cup back down on the table.

"You sure did," Gibbs chuckled. "I'm proud of you," he added, rubbing Tony's knee affectionately.

"We all are," Ducky added, and Jimmy nodded in agreement.

Tony was beaming with pride, looking the happiest Gibbs had seen him in a long time. And once again, Gibbs found himself haunted by guilt. Thinking about how, over the years, Tony had always seemed to crave praise and validation. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than obnoxious, ego driven behavior. But the way Tony looked at him now, Gibbs knew that Tony loved him, and wanted to be good for him. He wanted to know that Gibbs was happy with him. That's what it had been all along. And Gibbs had been too stubborn and oblivious to even notice.

Tony was now a simpler, more innocent version of himself. More openly emotional and honest. He wasn't hiding himself. He didn't know how to anymore.

Gibbs thought that maybe it was time for him to stop hiding too.


	20. Gibbs Gets Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week, someone asked me if this was really going to become a Tibbs story. Trust me, it will! Obviously, at this point in the story, for anything romantic or sexual to happen would be pretty creepy and inappropriate. But trust me, by the end of this story, Gibbs and Tony will be a couple! They'll just be taking an indirect path to love. 
> 
> Have patience, The Tibbs shall happen. ;)

 

Gibbs looked down at Tony's sleeping face, relieved to see that it wasn't twisted into an anguished frown. Nightmare induced whimpers didn't break the silence of his darkened bedroom. Only Tony's snoring, tinged with a slight rattling whistle - a "gift" leftover from Tony's bout with the plague.

It was a nice change to see Tony sleeping peacefully. In the months since Tony had been rescued, his sleep had been haunted by nightmares. Loud screams and tantrums interrupted his rest. And it seemed that, even while sleeping, Tony lived in a state of perpetual fear.

That hadn't disappeared entirely. Tony was still very emotionally needy. But at least he appeared to feel safe at home with Gibbs. Safe enough to have a calm and restful sleep anyway. Tony knew that Gibbs would look after him.

Only when Tony really needed it, when it really counted, Gibbs wasn't there for him. He neglected Tony. Pushed him aside. Failed to see the pain behind the smiles, snarky comments and movie references.

He had let Tony down. Left him alone and emotionally vulnerable.

And it cost Tony everything.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs forced his emotions down. He couldn't risk letting Tony hear him break down. He couldn't chance the boy waking to the sound of the one he saw as strong and invincible appearing afraid.

So Gibbs listened to Tony's steady breathing for a minute before kissing him lightly on the forehead and quietly leaving the bedroom.

Normally, when he was feeling stressed out and just needed a chance to quiet his mind, Gibbs would go down to the basement and work on a project. But he hadn't gone down there in months. Not since Tony had been kidnapped. Yet another aspect of his life that had changed.

Gibbs couldn't allow himself to retreat anymore. He had to face his part in what happened to Tony, and try to figure out the best way for them both to move forward.

Gibbs made his way to a few boxes of Tony's things that remained stacked in the corner of the living room. Removing a couple of boxes to from the stack, he found the one he was looking for: a box labeled "photos."

Gibbs carefully cut open the box. Then, slowly, almost reverently, he removed the album that rested at the top.

A stray photo fell out from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, Gibbs blinked back tears at the image of Tony and himself, standing side by side in front of the elevators leading into Abby's lab.

Gibbs chuckled softly, clearly remembering that day. Tony had only just started at NCIS, and Abby, in her typically enthusiastic fashion, wanted to "capture the moment."

Those were happier times, Gibbs thought. Tony had such promise as an agent, and Gibbs made it clear that he had faith in the former cop's potential. They was a mutual admiration and respect. And Gibbs made sure Tony knew that, if he was hard on him, it was only because he knew what Tony was capable of.

Tony had lived up to that potential Gibbs saw early on, and then some! He'd gone above and beyond, his acts more brave, loyal, selfless and heroic than Gibbs had ever been. If Gibbs were honest with himself, he'd even go so far as to say that Tony had become a better agent than he was; at once making him proud and putting him to shame.

And how had Gibbs rewarded Tony's hard work and sacrifice? He dismissed it. Pushed Tony away. Treated him as an inconvenience, rather than an asset. He took for granted the best thing that ever happened to the team, never giving a second thought to how it might be hurting Tony.

Gibbs hadn't been consciously aware that he had been treating Tony progressively worse over the years. But now, he found himself doing something that had become all too common for him recently. Something that, not long ago, he would have been too ashamed to do. He honestly examined the truth of his feelings. Setting the prideful bastard aside, he knew it was time to get real with himself.

The reality was, he had grown to love Tony. He admired him for his intellect, his unconventional investigative techniques and his courage. But he loved him for his heart and loyalty. He loved those green eyes that dazzled when he smiled, and those full, kissable lips. He loved Tony's laughter; the sweetest music on the darkest of days.

But why? Why was he only now admitting these feelings to himself? At a time when acting on them would only serve to frighten Tony, who had come to associate anything more intimate than a hug with the abuse he had suffered at the hands of Mark Ellsworth and Kyle Taylor.

Yes, Tony was, for all intents and purposes, a child now. And Gibbs, being the one who had rescued Tony, and acted as his caregiver ever since, would of course be thought of by this this child as a father figure.

But knowing that, hidden somewhere behind the pain and trauma was the man he loved, Gibbs' feelings were conflicted. He felt like a sick pervert, longing for a man who had regressed to the mental state of a toddler.

After Senior's unexpected visit earlier that night, Gibbs was convinced that the months Tony spent being continuously raped and tortured caused something to break, letting out a part of him that had been pushed down years ago, and locking away the person he had been forced to become. Gibbs had never thought much of that psychology mumbo jumbo before. But, once again, Tony's ordeal had forced him to rethink everything.

Setting the photo aside, Gibbs picked up the photo album. It was leather bound, with gold flourishes along the spine. It looked old, yet well cared for.

Opening the album, Gibbs smiled down at the image on the first page. A newborn baby boy, wearing a striped beanie and swaddled in a hospital issue blanket. His eyes were just barely opened, and his little mouth was turned into an adorable frown.

 _"Tony's first picture,"_ Gibbs thought, feeling both glad for the chance to be able to glimpse Tony's story from the beginning, and saddened by all of the pain that he knew lay ahead for this sweet baby.

Turning the page, Gibbs saw Tony cradled in his mother's arms. She was a beautiful woman, with blond hair, kind eyes, and a warm smile. Staring down at Tony with perfect love and devotion, it was clear she had made him her entire world!

Looking through this and two more photo albums, Gibbs felt he was taking a trip back in time through all of Tony's milestones and fond memories. Tony's first Halloween, dressed as an adorable little monkey. His first birthday, chubby face covered in chocolate cake. His first day of school, peeking back over his backpack sadly at his mother.

There was no question that Tony's mother doted on her only child. Trips to the zoo, the movies and the park were all captured on film. As were home activities such as Tony baking cookies and working in the garden with his mother.

An image of Tony sitting at the piano at about age 4 caught Gibbs' attention. He looked so focused and serious as he played, but also happy and content, as though he were in his element. Seeing now that Tony had been playing for most of his life, Gibbs imagined he must have been very good. He wondered if playing piano was a skill that Tony would remember. With time, would that part of his brain open back up?

Picture after picture told a story of a happy, well - loved little boy. A boy whose mother wanted to give him every opportunity she could, and showered him with affection.

Yet, for all of these photos, Tony's father rarely appeared. And when he did, he seemed largely disinterested.

By the end of the third photo album, the number of pictures was significantly less, and the tone had changed dramatically. The once happy and outgoing child now looked sad and withdrawn. Occasionally, he managed what looked like a forced smile. But for the most part, he simply couldn't be bothered.

Senior appeared in a few of the photos, an awkward arm placed unnaturally around Tony. Tony stood beside him, wearing a pained expression and appearing very uncomfortable.

Closing the photo album and placing it back in the box with the other albums, Gibbs was now convinced that Tony's childhood had effectively ended when his mother died.

Thinking back on Senior's words, there was no love. For all of his false remorse, he was still making excuses for abusing Tony as a child. Claiming he was overwhelmed, and didn't know how to deal with an emotional young boy.

But there was no excusing what Senior had done. Tony had lost the one person in the world who truly loved him. The only true parent he knew. Suddenly left with a father who up to that point had been mostly absent from Tony's life, and now treated him as a burden and an inconvenience, of course Tony was upset. That didn't justify hitting him.

_"DiNozzos don't cry!"_

That mantra must have been beaten into Tony from a very young age. And it carried over into his adult life. Tony bottled up his feelings, swallowing down his sadness so he wouldn't appear weak. He accepted the abuse, hurtful comments and slights, and he took it all with a smile. Because that's what his father had taught him.

And Gibbs had played a part in the abuse. After building Tony up and making him believe his presence and contributions mattered, he tore him right back down. He kept Tony at a distance, treating him with an undeserved disdain that probably made him feel just as sad and unloved as he'd felt around his father as a boy.

But Gibbs knew it wouldn't do any good to wallow in guilt. The best way to make things up to Tony now was care for him, offering the love he had been denied for too long. Being called "daddy" might make Gibbs uncomfortable. But that kind of love and security was what Tony needed. And that's what Gibbs would provide.

At the same time, Gibbs was aware that he couldn't do it on his own. Until Tony allowed himself to be more physically independent, Gibbs had decided to hire a couple of home health aides to come in on alternating days. Gibbs wasn't getting any younger, and taking care of an overgrown baby alone would be a challenge, even for a man half his age.

More importantly, Gibbs needed to be present for Tony emotionally. Any potential recovery was dependent upon Tony working through all of the physical and emotional abuse he had suffered. Ellsworth and Taylor had finally broken Tony. But Senior laid the groundwork years before. And Gibbs was ashamed to admit he had only helped to reinforce the abuse in the years between.

So Gibbs had arranged to have a therapist come to the house twice a week to meet with Tony. Perhaps they could help draw out the man hiding within the boy.

But Gibbs knew that, if he was going to be any help to Tony, he needed to work through his own issues. And so he, too, would be having sessions with the therapist. Gibbs had never been good with feelings. He didn't know how to properly deal with strong emotions, choosing instead to be a bastard. And that was his defense. Few people confronted him. No one could hurt him. He'd put up his own walls to deal with his pain, and, up until recently, he didn't care who he hurt.

But things needed to change. He needed to change. And he was willing to do just that for Tony.

 

 

 


	21. Friends, Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I also hope that AO3 doesn't go down for several hours, like it did right after I posted the last chapter. I think a lot of people missed that update as a result.
> 
> Anyway, things really take a turn in this chapter, and the ones that follow. I hope you like it.
> 
> Thank you for your continued support of this story. Your feedback means the world to me!

 

 

Dr. Rachel Cranston stood on the porch of the old house and took a few deep breaths, mentally preparing for the task ahead. Through years of practice, she had learned to distance herself, and not let herself become emotionally invested in her patients' issues.

But today, that would be nearly impossible.

For two years, she'd heard her late sister, Kate, tell stories of her NCIS team mates. Leroy Jethro Gibbs; tough but caring. He expected a lot of his agents, and he respected them enough to know they could deliver. A man who smiled so rarely, his occasional displays of humor were at once disarming and refreshing.

Rachel had spoken to Gibbs on previous occasions, but today would be their first time meeting face to face.

Though she was too distraught to attend Kate's funeral, Gibbs called to check in on her after it happened. She was surprised, and truly touched by this show of concern from a virtual stranger.

Gibbs called Rachel every year after that on the anniversary of Kate's death, and the thoughtful gesture meant more to her than she could ever express. So when Gibbs called unexpectedly, needing her help, she was more than happy to offer whatever assistance she could.

As for Tony DiNozzo, Rachel always hoped to meet him someday. But she never thought it would be under these circumstances.

Kate had shown her photos of a handsome man with a playful smile who, from all outward appearances, was healthy, energetic and confident.

Kate described Tony as a smart, competent investigator who had at first fooled her with his childish pranks and playful spirit. But she eventually discovered a depth and intelligence behind this facade.

The intelligence, Kate had admitted to Rachel, was easier to see than the depth.

In fact, it was only weeks before Kate's death, when Tony was fighting for his life with the plague, that she finally saw his mask begin to crumble. It was then that Kate saw the sensitive, vulnerable soul behind the womanizing frat boy persona. And it was then that she regretfully admitted she had judged Tony unfairly, never really making the effort to know him.

  
But now, it seemed, all that had been taken away from him. Yes, it was true that male survivors of rape faced their own unique set of challenges. But for Tony to completely regress to the mental state of a toddler, he must have lived through an especially disturbing set of nightmares.

Rachel knew the hours ahead would be difficult. But somehow, she felt that helping like this was a way to keep her sister close.

With that thought in mind, she slowly brought her finger to the doorbell and rang.

Through the open window, she could hear voices coming from inside. A male voice - obviously Tony's - sobbing and gasping in fear. Then came Gibbs' voice, soothing and comforting Tony. Telling him not to worry. He was safe. After a minute, the sobs quieted, and Rachel could hear footsteps. A moment later, the door swung open, and Gibbs greeted her with a tired smile.

"Good to see you," reaching out his arm, Gibbs pulled Rachel in for a hug.

"I never figured you for a hugger," she laughed, surprised.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't. Then Tony..." Gibbs' voice trailed off. It was obvious he was tired, overworked, and overhwhelmed. But, more than anything, he just wanted to know how to help Tony.

"So, how do you wanna do this?" Gibbs asked, after taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I was thinking I could spend a few hours with you and Tony. Just seeing how you do things here. And if Tony feels like opening up to me, even better. Then, if you're feeling up to it, I can come back tonight after Tony is asleep, and talk with you about your concerns."

"All right," Gibbs nodded with the faintest of smiles. "Come on in."

  
Rachel entered behind Gibbs and was met with the sight of a tight-lipped Tony turning his head away from a stocky, dark haired woman in her early 50s.

"Come on, Tony," she urged. "Just one spoonful, and it will be all over."

"No," Tony protested, putting his hand over his mouth. "Is bad."

"I know it tastes bad, but it helps to stop the hurt in your body. You want that, right?"

Unconsciously, Tony rubbed his left shoulder. "Yeah," he conceded, opening his mouth compliantly.

Rachel tried to hide her alarm as she watched Tony accepting the medicine. Gibbs told her Tony had gained a few pounds, but it couldn't have been much. He was frighteningly thin; arms practically twigs, eyes sunken into his gaunt features. Tony's oversized clothes covered his body, but Rachel was certain he was skin and bones underneath. The skin on Tony's wrists was bruised, and slightly raised; evidence of healing gashes. Similar marks formed a gruesome collar around his neck.

Swallowing the liquid, Tony scrunched up his face.

"Here," the woman chuckled, digging a spoon into a nearby bowl and offering it to Tony. "Why don't we wash that down with some oatmeal."

Tony nodded, opening his mouth and gobbling the offered food down hungrily. It seemed he couldn't get rid of the medicinal taste fast enough.

"That better?" The woman asked, smiling.

"Yeah," Tony answered with a small nod. As he did so, his eyes met Rachel's gaze, looking at her with a frightened and suspicious curiosity. "Who dat?"

"Hey there, Tony. I'm Rachel," she introduced herself, slowly approaching him.

"She's a friend," Gibbs added.

Tony's features noticeably softened at that word, and Rachel knew it held some special power for Tony. At least coming from Gibbs, it did.

"Hi...Chel." Tony reached out a bony hand for Rachel to shake, and she accepted it with a smile, careful not to grip too firmly. Tony almost seemed breakable.

She then turned her attention to the woman who had been feeding Tony. "Dr. Rachel Cranston," she introduced herself.

"Bonnie," the woman smiled, extending her hand. "Bonnie McFaddan. I'm one of Tony's home health aides."

"It's very nice to meet both of you," Rachel said, looking from Bonnie to Tony warmly.

"You need anything?" Gibbs offered. "I made a fresh pot of coffee, and there's some oatmeal left in the pot."

"I'm fine. Thank you," Rachel politely declined, taking a seat across from Tony.

By this time, Bonnie had turned her attention fully back to Tony, encouraging him to place his hand around the special spoon with the large, rubber base. "You want to try feeding yourself, Tony?"

Tony looked up anxiously at her, whimpering.

"It's okay if you spill, Tony," Bonnie assured him. "That's what your bib is for. To catch any spills. Accidents happen, and you don't need to feel bad if they do."

Whimpering again, Tony reached for the spoon, grasping it with a shaky hand and bringing it up to his mouth. Most of the oatmeal ended up on his chin, but a little bit get in his mouth.

"Good job," Bonnie praised, wiping Tony's chin. "Can you do it again?"

Tony nodded, then proceeded to repeat the action a few more times. Each time, he found a little more success getting the oatmeal into his mouth. And each time, his confidence seemed to grow. But after the fifth bite, he stopped eating, dropping his spoon back into the bowl with a messy splash.

"Aww done," Tony quietly declared.

"But Tony, you've hardly eaten anything", Rachel noted. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Aww done," Tony repeated, looking down.

"It's like this at every meal time," Gibbs sighed, before sitting down beside Tony and lifting the spoon to his mouth. "Tony, if you could eat a little more, that sure would make me happy."

Tony whined, looking at the spoon with fearful, teary eyes.

"It's okay, Tony. It's not a trick," Gibbs assured him. "Come on. Just three more bites. Think you can manage that?"

Giving a small, almost imperceptible nod, Tony opened his mouth, allowing Gibbs to feed him. And with each bite, he became more visibly upset, flinching every time the spoon came near his face.

"Good...that's a good boy," Gibbs whispered, setting the spoon back in the bowl. "I'm proud of you for eating a little more this time."

"Good boy?" Tony repeated back what Gibbs had said in disbelief. "But...eat so much."

"Nah. You didn't." Gibbs grabbed the back of Tony's head and began lovingly massaging it. "Eat as much as you want."

Tony shook his head, as if he didn't quite believe what Gibbs was saying. "I aww done."

"All right." Gibbs kissed Tony's forehead. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"K, daddy," Tony said, reaching his arms out for a hug.

Rachel didn't miss the discomfort in Gibbs' expression at being called "daddy" as he embraced Tony. She added it to her mental list of things to discuss with Gibbs that night. After observing Gibbs and Tony for only a few minutes, she could already tell they had a lot of work ahead of them.

  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

  
As she had promised, Rachel stayed through the morning, observing the routine that Gibbs had set for Tony. Though she gave them privacy for more intimate moments, when Tony might feel more vulnerable around strangers.

One thing that stood out to Rachel was that Tony's every action seemed motivated by fear and uncertainty. Every word that came out of his mouth was spoken with hesitation, as if he were asking permission. Every movement looked as though it were made with the expectation he would be punished for it. And, while Tony obviously loved and adored Gibbs, he also seemed very afraid of displeasing him.

As for Gibbs, his interactions with Tony were very cautious and deliberate. He encouraged Tony to speak up, and try to be more independent. But he never wanted Tony to feel he was being forced. This resulted in Gibbs giving in at the slightest sign of agitation from Tony; continuing to baby him, rather than potentially upset him by demanding more.

From the brief phone conversations they had prior to her visit, Rachel knew that Gibbs' behavior was largely motivated by guilt. Guilt over his treatment of Tony in the past. Regret at words and actions he could never take back. He didn't want to raise his voice to Tony, or push him too hard, because he felt Tony had been hurt by him enough.

For the moment, Tony was content, sitting in the living room and watching an old VHS copy of _U2: Live At Red Rocks_ that had been brought over from his old apartment. Gibbs sat in an easy chair beside him, reading a magazine. Seeing Rachel, Gibbs grabbed the remote, turning the volume on the TV down low enough that she could talk to Tony if she wanted to.

As the opening notes of _I Will Follow_ played, Rachel took a seat on the couch. Watching Tony in his wheelchair, eyes lit up, mouth turned into a joyful smile, the man seemed transformed. For the first time that morning, Tony looked truly happy.

"I like this song," Rachel commented, tapping her feet to the rhythm. "You've got good taste in music, Tony."

Tony looked over at Rachel with an excited smile, truly connecting with her for the first time since her arrival . "You yike?"

Rachel nodded. "I do. And my sister loved U2! For a long time, they were her favorite band."

"You has sister?"

Rachel nodded. "I had a sister. Her name was Kate. Do you remember Kate, Tony? She was a friend of yours."

Tony looked down into his lap, fidgeting with his hands. "I don't yike a-memmer tings. Twy...not a-memmer. Is bad."

Rachel smiled sadly at Tony. "Not all memories are bad. Sometimes they remind us of times that made us happy, or the people that care about us. And you know what, Tony? My sister cared about you very much."

"Kate...yook yike you?" Tony asked, eyes focused intently on Rachel's face.

"A little bit, yes," Rachel replied, her smile brightening. "I have some pictures with me," she added, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small photo album. "Would you like to see?"

"I...don'...don' know," Tony stammered, his words thick, as though struggling with his answer.

"Well, I'd like to see," Gibbs finally spoke, getting up and moving to stand behind Tony's wheelchair. "Tony, Kate was my friend too. Would you look at these pictures with me?" Gibbs asked, gently squeezing Tony's shoulders.

Tony reached up, lightly touching Gibbs' hand draped across his right shoulder. Worry and hesitation were written all over Tony's face. But so was a desire to make Gibbs' happy. The poor man was truly torn. But at last, after a few moments' hesitation, he gave his answer.

"Okay."

Opening the small, light purple photo album, Rachel turned to a photo of Kate wearing a t-shirt, shorts and hiking boots, standing on a walking trail. It was taken during a hiking trip the sisters had taken together two years before Kate died. She looked free-spirited and care free. A side of her that neither man had seen before.

Tony studied the picture carefully, and it wasn't long before his eyes lit up in recognition.

"Kate...I a-memmer."

"You remember Kate? That's wonderful, Tony," Rachel softly exclaimed. "What do you remember about her?"

"Kate is...nice," Tony said slowly, smiling over at Gibbs. "When I sick...she stay."

"She sure did," Gibbs confirmed, lightly squeezing Tony's hand as he smiled at the younger man with hope and pride. "She was a good friend. Wasn't going to leave you alone until she knew you were all right."

"Kate...nice..." Tony repeated, watching with interest as Rachel turned to the next picture. It was Kate, standing between Gibbs, Tony and McGee at the 2003 NCIS Christmas party. This was the NCIS family as Kate had described it. This was the team as Rachel wished she could have met them.

"You see, Tony?" Rachel pointed to each person in the photo in turn. "There's Jethro, and that's you. And there's Kate and Tim."

Tony's eyes became watery as he stared, speechless, at the image before him. And as those green eyes began darting around, and his lips mouthed wordlessly, Tony reminded Rachel of a computer overheating. Trying desperately to make sense of his memories, and entirely overwhelmed by the feelings they were bringing to the surface.

"I a-memmer...I a-memmer..." he repeated, rocking back and forth, his words increasing in volume each time he spoke them, until finally, he slapped the photo album out from Rachel's hand.

"Tony?" Gibbs moved in front of Tony, lovingly caressing his cheek. He looked helpless and afraid. Unsure of what was happening, or how he could help Tony.

"Kate...Kate..."Tony's voice, thick and cracking with emotion, almost sounded inhuman as he started violently punching his forehead; an obvious imitation of Kate being shot in the head.

"Kate gone!!" Kate gone!! Gone!! Gone...gone...g-gone..."

Tony stumbled over his words as Gibbs gently grabbed his wrist so he could no longer hurt himself.

Tony looked up to meet Gibbs' gaze. Tears now flowed freely from his eyes, and his lower lip trembled in an open-mouthed display that reminded Rachel of those silent cries that babies make before they begin wailing at top volume.

And then, sure enough, the sobs came; loud and heartbreaking. Tony collapsed into Gibbs' waiting arms, his thin, shaking form appearing truly broken.

All Rachel could do was look on as she fought to keep her composure. She felt completely useless at the moment. Unable to help, as her own heart broke all over again.


	22. Two Different Kinds Of Love

 

 

Gibbs' heart felt heavy with worry as he tucked Tony into bed and planted a kiss on his forehead. After Tony's upsetting recollection of Kate's death that morning, he had become quiet and unresponsive. Not a sound came out of his mouth. Not even a whimper or cry. He made no eye contact, and refused to engage with anyone. He rejected all offered food and drink, refusing even a few bites; a worrisome turn of events for a man like Tony, who was close to starvation as it was. And it left Gibbs concerned that Tony had lost all of the progress he'd made.

"Is there anything I can get you, Tony? A drink of water, maybe?" Gibbs asked as he stood in the doorway to leave, his hand on the light switch.

Tony said nothing. But for the first time in hours, he turned his gaze towards Gibbs, giving him a mournful look that made the older man both hopeful and uneasy.

Gibbs waited expectantly for Tony to say something. But only moments later, Tony's eyes fluttered closed and he turned his face away, making it clear he wanted to be left alone.

Sighing, Gibbs turned off the light and closed the door almost all the way, leaving it open only a crack to allow some light in for Tony.

Peering out the front window, Gibbs saw the headlights of Rachel's car pulling into the driveway. Making his way to the door, he quietly opened it, walking out to greet her.

"Hey. Thanks for coming back," Gibbs said with an awkward nod.

"I was surprised you wanted me to, after what I put Tony through this morning," Rachel admitted, walking up the steps and taking a seat on the front porch beside Gibbs.

"Ah, he would have remembered eventually anyway", Gibbs shrugged. "As much as I wish I could stop it, he's gonna remember."

"Yes. He is. And your need to protect Tony from those memories is what I'd like to discuss with you," Rachel said, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands. "I know you feel guilty about hurting Tony before, but do you really think you're helping him now? Tony is controlled by fear, Gibbs. He's so worried he'll be punished, he's afraid to even move. And until he confronts what's happened to him, that's always going to be the case."

"I know," Gibbs sighed. "But every time Tony remembers something, his reactions get worse. And after this last time..." Gibbs ran a hand through his hair, breathing in and out through his nose. "I worry he's not gonna come back from this."

"I think that he will," Rachel said confidently. "Tony is stronger than you realize." She held up her hand to stop Gibbs when she saw him open his mouth to protest. "If I'm wrong, I accept full responsibility. I'll set Tony up with whatever additional care he needs. But I have faith, Gibbs. Tony is a survivor. Now," Rachel sat up, all business. "Let's talk about you."

Gibbs chuckled uncomfortably. "I was wondering when we were gonna get to this."

"You have a complicated relationship with Tony, don't you?" Rachel framed this as a question, but it was more a definitive statement.

"Yeah. You could say that," Gibbs confessed. "There was a time when we were close. Then, things happened. Things that shook up the team, and turned me into a person I don't like very much."

"Care to elaborate?" Rachel asked hopefully.

Gibbs thought back on the tragedies that had darkened the past few years at NCIS.

The explosion Gibbs was caught in, and the resulting coma, which brought back memories Gibbs was too emotionally weak to face. Running away to Mexico, leaving Tony to clean up his mess, and then coming back without so much as a "thank you" for the younger man.

Jenny's death. Gibbs knew Tony blamed himself for it. Vance sending him away immediately afterwards to act as Agent Afloat likely only reinforced that misplaced guilt. But, while Gibbs stood up for Tony behind the scenes, he never let Tony see that support for himself. He'd left Tony alone in his guilt and sorrow, questioning everything he'd done.

Then, there was the whole mess with Ziva. Tony had tried hard to keep the team intact. And Gibbs knew that was a lingering effect of losing Kate. Gibbs knew, better than anyone realized, that Tony couldn't bear losing another team mate, under any circumstances. This was why Gibbs never told Tony about Ziva making him choose between them. This was also why he didn't protest when Tony insisted they go to find her.

Gibbs' actions were all misguided. But at the time, he thought he was doing what was right for everyone.

"Gibbs?" Rachel's voice abruptly pulled Gibbs out of his thoughts, and back into the present.

"Y-yeah?" Gibbs stuttered, blinking.

"You said some things had happened that turned you into a person you didn't like. Would you care to elaborate?"

"I dunno. That's a lot to get into," Gibbs said warily. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that just yet."

"Fine. You're a man of few words. In a nutshell, then," Rachel prodded, tilting her head and smirking in a manner that was oddly sympathetic.

Gibbs scrubbed a hand over his face, slumping back. "I was never very good at admitting when I'm wrong. Never believed in apologies. But I screwed up with Tony. I didn't support him when he needed it. Wouldn't thank him when he deserved it. And when he was hurting, I was too caught up in my own crap to even see it. Hell, I might as well have sent him to that bar myself."

"You can't blame yourself for what happened to Tony. You had no way of knowing."

"No, but I should have. I let Tony down. And I have to face that every time I look at him."

"Gibbs." Rachel leaned forward, clasping Gibbs' hands in a calming gesture. "I'm glad that you can take responsibility for your part in things. And I can see, in everything you do, that you're trying to make it up to Tony. But you're not to blame for what those men did to him."

"Maybe not," Gibbs whispered. "But I sure as hell played a part in getting him there."

"Stop!" Rachel said firmly. "Wallowing in guilt isn't going to help Tony. Worrying about how he'll react when he remembers things won't help, either."

"So what do I do?" Gibbs asked helplessly.

"Slowly re-introduce him to pieces of his old life," Rachel suggested. "Letting him watch that concert earlier is a good start. It's something that made him happy before."

Gibbs nodded, impressed that Rachel instinctively knew the video belonged to Tony, and not him.

"Show Tony his old NCIS ID," Rachel continued. "Or some other treasured items that defined who he was. Little by little, things will come back to Tony. And you need to let them."

"He's going to hate me," Gibbs said sadly. "And he has every right to."

Rachel shook her head. "I doubt that. You've taken such good care of Tony, he loves and trusts you like he's your own child."

Gibbs looked away, clearing his throat at those words.

"I know this makes you uncomfortable. I've seen the look on your face when Tony calls you 'daddy'. But, for whatever reason, this is what he needs from you right now."

Gibbs leaned forward, putting a hand to his mouth. Fighting back the words he so wanted to say.

"I know that you're in love with Tony," Rachel said with a sympathetic smile. "That's why it's so hard for you to see him like this."

Gibbs could feel his face turning red, and he hoped that Rachel couldn't see well enough to notice on the dimly lit porch. "I can't have these feelings for Tony. He's...he's just a kid."

"I understand you're conflicted," Rachel said, her tone surprisingly non judgmental. "But I know you're not in love with 'baby' Tony, even if you do love him very much. No. You're in love with the man Tony was, and the man he might be again. I think you feel two very distinct loves for Tony. And it's hard for you to reconcile those feelings."

Gibbs nodded, embarrassed at being called out on his feelings, but glad to be understood. "So, what do I do?"

"I think you know," Rachel answered, crossing her arms. "You need to put your desires aside and be the man Tony needs you to be. For now, he doesn't need a lover. He needs a father figure. He needs that protective, parental love. Someone to look out for him, until he's strong enough to do so himself."

"Yeah...yeah, you're right," Gibbs nodded in acknowledgement. And as he considered Rachel's words, his thoughts turned to Tony's actual father.

Ever since the elder DiNozzo had visited Tony in the hospital, Gibbs had an uneasy feeling about him. The sheer terror Tony expressed at his presence. Senior's seeming disgust at Tony's condition, despite claiming to want to take care of him. And the fact that Senior had suddenly reappeared in Tony's life after 20 years set off more than a few red flags.

The recent discovery of a sizable trust fund in Tony's name may hold the answer to Senior's sudden presence. But as long as Gibbs was Tony's legal guardian, Senior couldn't touch that money.

Now, there was no question in Gibbs' mind. Until Tony was able to speak for himself, Gibbs' wasn't going to let Senior anywhere near him. Instead, Gibbs would act as Tony's father. Ignoring the discomfort, and the aching in his heart at Tony's state. He would need to accept Tony as he was: innocent, vulnerable and dependent. Protecting him from all harm - and from Senior's dubious intentions.

"Gibbs?" Rachel called to him through the echo of his thoughts. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," Gibbs smiled appreciatively at Rachel. "Thank you, Rachel. You've helped me in more ways than you realize."

  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Quiet as he could, Gibbs opened the door, stepping into Tony's bedroom.

Smiling affectionately, he swallowed down the guilt he felt as he watched the younger man sleep. Rachel was right. This wasn't about Gibbs' guilt, or how uncomfortable he felt about the current state of his relationship with Tony. This was about giving Tony what he needed: Love, care, and patience as he struggled to find his way back to himself.

"Sweet dreams, Tony," Gibbs whispered, kissing the top of Tony's head.

As he turned to leave, Gibbs felt long, thin fingers brush against his arm. Turning around, his eyes met Tony's, looking at him with that same disarming expression he'd had earlier that night. Then, opening his mouth, Tony said the last thing Gibbs expected to hear.

"I remember...everything."


	23. Strange Kindness and Wrong Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks a real turning point for Gibbs and Tony. Their path to love will still be a bumpy, winding one. But some obstacles have cleared, and hopefully you will be able to see how they could eventually get together. (And I promise they will!)
> 
> I am so very thankful to everyone who has liked this story, bookmarked it, and left comments and kudos. I appreciate you plowing through the disturbing early chapters and sticking with this. Hopefully, you're finding the journey worthwhile.

 

 

Gibbs studied Tony's face with concern. There was a heartbreaking awareness there that had previously been absent. But there was also confusion, and a lingering innocence in his eyes; green eyes, which shone with unshed tears as they gazed into Gibbs' blue.

Which version of Tony was this? When he spoke, for the first time in months, Gibbs swore he could hear "adult" Tony again.

But the timid, deliberate way Tony spoke, and the fear and vulnerability in his expression, indicated that "baby" Tony was still a part of him.

Unsure exactly how to approach Tony, Gibbs decided to take things slow and cautious. Never pushing Tony too hard. Just following his lead and seeing what he was emotionally ready for.

"Tony?" Gibbs sat down on the bed beside Tony. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

Reaching out a hand, Gibbs moved to cup Tony's cheek. Tony averted his eyes, but didn't reject the touch.

"Too much," Tony rasped. His voice, cracking with emotion, was rough from dehydration. "It's too much for me. But...I need to understand." Tony punctuated the sentence with a series of dry coughs.

"Hey...How about I get you a snack? We can talk once you get your strength back," Gibbs offered, barely concealing the worry in his voice.

Tony nodded indifferently, pulling his blankets up and scrunching bits of fabric in his fists.

Gibbs smiled fondly, instinctively leaning in to give Tony a kiss on the forehead.

"No," Tony protested, turning away from Gibbs.

The rejection felt like a punch in the gut; a confirmation of Gibbs' worst fears. But it was far from unexpected. Gibbs sensed it coming the moment Tony opened his mouth and spoke up in his "adult" voice.

If Tony did, indeed, hate him now, Gibbs would need to accept that. He was, after all, processing a flood of painful memories - and that included Gibbs' betrayal. But that wouldn't stop him from doing everything he could to help Tony.  
"I'll be right back", Gibbs said with a resigned nod. Walking away, he wondered sadly if he would ever be able to earn back Tony's trust.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

"Hey, Tony." Gibbs set the tray table down on Tony's lap, watching as the younger man examined the plate of pretzels and cubed cheese and the sippy cup of juice.

Gibbs was a little worried about how Tony might react to the sippy cup. He really didn't know what to say to Tony, how to act around him, or how to treat him. Until Tony opened up a little more, the best he could do was guess.

But Tony's hands were still unsteady. And, though his speech sounded a little more adult, his movements were still clumsy and child-like.

"Is that cup gonna work for you?"

Tony nodded, grabbing hold of the cup with shaking hands and bringing it up to his mouth to take a small sip. Setting the cup back down, he began rearranging the cheese and pretzels on his plate. He then looked up at Gibbs cautiously, as if he didn't entirely trust the older man's intentions.

"Go on," Gibbs encouraged. "Eat up."

Tony picked up a cube of cheese and took half a bite from it before setting it back down on the plate.

Gibbs sighed. "I know you're pissed. And I know you don't trust me. I haven't really given you much reason to. But I'm asking you to trust that I care about you, and I worry when you don't eat. Please, just try and eat a little more."

Not taking his eyes off of Gibbs, Tony finished the cheese cube, then washed it down with another sip of juice. He then proceeded to nibble cautiously at the cheese and pretzels, chewing through shallow breaths and tight whimpers, until it finally became too much for him.

Swallowing down one more sip of juice, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

"Talk to me, Tony," Gibbs urged, once it appeared Tony had calmed himself. "Help me understand."

Tony gave Gibbs a long look, examining his features as if to determine the sincerity of his words. Once he finally seemed convinced, Tony licked his lips and started fidgeting nervously with his hands.

"When Master - " he began, before quickly correcting himself. "When Mark fed me, he...he never let me finish. B-but I had to eat the exact amount he wanted me to. Not more, not less. I never knew how much I was allowed to eat. Mark never...never told me. I always guessed wrong and...and...he would hurt me. "

At this point, Tony was rocking back and forth furiously, forehead resting on his fists.

Gibbs felt sick at what he was hearing. He knew that Ellsworth and Taylor had been controlling Tony through fear and manipulation. And what better way to "train" him than to to put him in situations where failure was guaranteed and pain was a certainty.

Thinking back on the disturbing assortment of items the team had found at the house when they rescued Tony, Gibbs was sure the two younger men had found some very creative ways to hurt him.

Was it really any surprise Tony had eventually broken?

  
"Oh, Tony...No wonder you're always afraid," Gibbs said mournfully. "You didn't deserve what those bastards did to you."

Unsure if the gesture would upset Tony, yet feeling the overwhelming urge to comfort him, Gibbs gently grabbed Tony's clenched fists. Tony, lacking the strength or energy to fight, allowed this, opening his thin hands and interlacing his fingers with Gibbs'.

"Your words are wrong," Tony said, almost inaudibly. And as their eyes met, Gibbs could clearly see Tony's confusion.

"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked, also confused.

"You say too many words...Nice words. It doesn't sound like you."

Gibbs had to chuckle at that. There was no question that recent events had changed him. Tony had changed him.

"Why did you save me?" Tony asked, furrowing his brow and pouting a little as he spoke. "I thought you didn't care."

"I care, Tony," Gibbs said, giving Tony's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I've cared all along."

"No!" Tony snapped, pulling his hand away. "You don't lie to people you care about. You don't let them go to Africa and get almost killed."

Tony's adult voice might be back to a certain extent. But it slid into clumsy, child like sentence structures.

This was the voice of a soul conflicted. A man's heartbroken indignation mixed with a little boy's inability to understand why people hurt and lie to those they claim to love.

Gibbs was beginning to understand; Tony's child and adult selves had become intertwined. It wasn't one or the other. Simply one. Tony, reborn into this new version of himself.

Tony would need to be addressed as an adult, but with the gentle and simple presentation of facts one would use to speak to a child.

Gibbs knew this was all part of the "growing up" and healing that Tony needed to do. And he would be with Tony every step of the way.

"Tony, it was a mistake lying to you," Gibbs sighed, voice tinged with regret. "And I'm so sorry I hurt you."

" 'Sorry?' " Tony echoed, eyeing Gibbs with disbelief.

"Yeah." Gibbs grinned. "I say 'sorry' now. That all right with you?"

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment before reaching out for Gibbs' hand; a gesture that filled the older man's heart with relief.

"Yeah," Tony decided with a smile. "It's okay."

"I know I don't deserve your trust," Gibbs said, eyes filled with a sadness. "But I sure hope you'll give me a chance to earn it."

Slowly, Tony brought his other hand over to rest on Gibbs' arm.

"I remember everything," Tony reminded him. "You lied to me. You hurt me and made me sad."

"I know," Gibbs looked down with a defeated sigh.

"But you...you saved from bad people. You take care of me. Maybe...you're nice."

Gibbs looked up hopefully to meet Tony's gaze. "So...are we good?" he asked, motioning his hand between them.

Tony nodded slowly. "Don't lie again," he warned.

Gibbs laughed warmly. "No more secrets from now on. I promise. Now...will you please eat a little more? For me?"

After only a moment's hesitation, Tony reached for a cracker. But before it reached his mouth, he paused, grabbing a second cracker with his other hand and giving it to Gibbs.

Gibbs felt his heart swell with affection at the gesture. This was so much more than a cracker. This was Tony, opening himself up to trust and forgiveness.

"Thanks, Tony," Gibbs said thickly. "For the cracker...and for not giving up on me."

"I love you...Jethro," Tony answered softly.


	24. In Between

 

 

Tony picked up one half of his grilled cheese sandwich, closing his eyes and letting out a small moan as the taste of warm, buttered bread and creamy cheese exploded on his tongue. This was the first time he had truly enjoyed eating in a very long time. He felt so far removed from his old life - the life before he was taken - that it seemed someone else had lived it. He knew he had eaten without being afraid before. He'd just forgotten what it felt like.

Peeking up over his sandwich, Tony glimpsed Jethro smiling at him fondly ; a look of pride in his eyes. All because Tony was eating. It was a strange adjustment, getting used to someone being kind, and wanting Tony to be well fed. Living with Masters Mark and Kyle, eating more than a few bites always meant punishment and pain.

Jethro was different. Tony was finally beginning to believe this. Even now, with memories of the many ways Jethro had previously hurt him returning with devastating clarity, Tony could see the regret in his eyes. He could see the love and sincerity. And he couldn't ignore the reality of all Jethro had done for him; not the least of which being the fact that Jethro had rescued Tony from a life of pain, suffering and humiliation. He gave him not only a home, but love, care and a sense of security. And somehow, remembering who he was made it easier for Tony to become more comfortable in this new life.

But then there was who Tony had become; an inevitable result of his traumatic ordeal, mixed with long repressed childhood memories, had shaped him into someone new. Tony had needs and longings now that made him feel ashamed. And he wasn't sure how he was going to transition into any kind of functional life. Not when the only life he wanted would only invite ridicule.

And then there was the love he felt for Jethro. A love so bizarrely conflicted, Tony was unsure how he was even supposed to express it.

"How's that sandwich?"

"Oh." Tony blinked, glad for the distraction from his overwhelming thoughts. "It's yummy! Thank you!"

"It does my heart good to see you eating." Jethro smiled - that wonderfully crooked smiled that Tony so loved - and leaned forward. "Now...how would you feel about trying to do something else you were afraid to before?"

"Like what?" Tony asked nervously. Eating was easier for him now, but he was still afraid to try just about everything else.

"I'll let you choose," Jethro answered. "How about..." His voice trailed off, and he paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Walking, or going to the bathroom."

Tony took another bite of his sandwich and began chewing slowly, hoping it would buy him some time to think. He didn't really like either option. The truth was, he liked it when Jethro took care of him. It made him feel loved. And he worried that, the moment he became too independent, Jethro would think Tony didn't need him anymore. Once again, he would be left on his own.

Tony wasn't willing to give up diapers. Not any time soon. Though his refusal to use the toilet had started because of the horrors he had endured at the hands of his Masters, it had evolved since he'd come to live with Jethro.

Tony had come to like the warm feeling of his diaper filling. He found comfort in Jethro's gentle touch as he wiped Tony clean and swaddled his bottom in a fresh diaper.

Tony associated being diapered with love and care. In Jethro's hands, the experience was made quite pleasurable; and even though Tony felt a little embarrassed about liking and needing it, he wasn't ready to deny himself this comfort.

But maybe walking wouldn't be so bad. Tony would miss the comfort of being lifted up and carried by Jethro, as he was transferred from his wheelchair into his bed. But he could still snuggle with Jethro. Jethro was always happy to give Tony snuggles.

"Walking," Tony finally answered softly, after swallowing down his food.

"All right," Jethro nodded, apparently pleased with Tony's answer. "Finish your lunch, then we'll get to work."

  
_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

  
"Okay, Tony." Jethro swiveled Tony's wheelchair away from the kitchen table so that he was facing the wall furthest from the table. "Your goal is to walk over to that wall."

Tony felt his chest tighten, suddenly feeling very nervous. It had been so long since he'd walked, he wasn't even sure he remembered how.

The firm yet gentle touch of Jethro's hand on his shoulder reminded Tony to breathe, and he looked up to see kind blue eyes looking down at him with a surprising understanding.

"You don't need to be afraid," Jethro reassured him. "I'll help you."

"Nn-kay," Tony quietly said with a nod.

Watching as Jethro moved to stand in front of him, Tony reached up his arms. And as Jethro placed his hands under Tony's armpits and hoisted him to his feet, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him; the sensation of standing so foreign now. Letting out a tiny whimper, he let himself fall into Jethro's chest, as panic took full control of him.

"Hey," Jethro said, putting his arms securely around Tony. "I believe in you, Tony. Just focus on my face, and do your very best. Okay?

Still whimpering, Tony nodded.

As Jethro pulled away from Tony, his hands slid down the younger man's arms, until they were firmly clasped with Tony's hands.

"I won't let you fall," Jethro promised, stepping back and widening the distance between them.

Doing as Jethro said, Tony took a cautious first step. Knowing that Jethro was there to catch him if he fell, it wasn't so scary. He took another step, moving forward as Jethro moved back.

"You're doing great," Jethro said proudly, and the words filled Tony with renewed confidence.

Tony took another step, and another, his full attention given to the man who was his very world! The man he was making proud just by trying his best!

By the time Jethro had reached the wall, Tony realized he had let go. Tony was left standing on his own, terrified.

"Help..." Tony wobbled a little as he took a shaky step towards Jethro. "I can't...alone."

"You can do it, Tony. I know you can," Jethro insisted. "Come on. Two more steps."

Fueled by Jethro's words, Tony moved forward, until he was standing face to face with Jethro. Then, deflated, he threw his arms around the older man, tears falling from his eyes.

"I knew you could do it," Jethro whispered into Tony's neck as he rubbed the back of his head. "I knew you could walk on your own."

Tony sobbed into Jethro's chest, unsure how he should be feeling. On the one hand, he was happy that he made Jethro proud. And he couldn't deny that he was feeling rather proud of himself. On the other hand, he was terrifed that he was now closer to being tossed away by the one person he can come to depend on most.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Jethro asked, giving Tony a light kiss on the neck.

"Tired," was all Tony could say.

"Understandable," Jethro said, hugging Tony a little tighter. "Taking these first steps is a big deal for you." Jethro paused, pulling back from the hug, but keeping a firm grip on Tony's arms. "Think you can walk back to your wheelchair?"

"Can you help me? Please?" Tony asked, looking up at Jethro with big, watery green eyes.

"I sure can."

Keeping a tight hold of Tony, Jethro took a couple steps forward, causing Tony to step back. "It's okay. I got you," he reassured, when he heard the younger man whimper.

Pivoting, the two men were now facing each other. Jethro, letting go of one of Tony's hands, kept a tight grip on the other.

"Turn to face forward," Jethro instructed, doing so himself.

Slowly, carefully, Tony followed his example.

"Come on," Jethro patiently encouraged. "One foot in front of the other."

Not wanting to let Jethro down, Tony took one cautious step, and then another; and with each step, he felt a little more confident. The warm touch of Jethro's hand reminded Tony that he was safe. Jethro wouldn't let him fall.

When he made it back to his wheelchair, Tony was so surprised with himself, he was speechless. He'd made it to the wall and back without falling. It was scary, and it was hard, but he did it! Jethro believed in him, and he did it!"

"I knew you could do it," Jethro said, as if reading Tony's mind, as Tony looked over to meet his gaze.

But it was a bittersweet victory for Tony, and he couldn't help feeling sadly conflicted as Jethro eased him back into the wheelchair. Yes, he was happy with his accomplishment. He was proud of himself for taking those first steps. Steps he would have been terrified to take a day ago. But if gaining independence meant losing Jethro, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to.

"Tony?" Jethro crouched down so that he was at eye level with Tony, wiping away a stray tear from his eye. "Why so sad?"

Locking eyes with Jethro, Tony lifted a thin, shaking hand to touch his face. Needing to ask the question, but terrified of the answer he might receive.

"Can I...Can I stay with you forever?" Tony finally asked, his tentative tone making him sound very young.

Tony didn't have long to worry about Jethro's response. Because moments later, his face broke into a loving smile that warmed Tony's heart.

"Of course," Jethro answered without hesitation, giving Tony's left knee a gentle squeeze with his right hand. "I wouldn't want it any other way."


	25. In Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Tony's thoughts are meant to seem a bit fractured and confused. I wanted him to be able to give voice to that. Hopefully, you can make sense of his broken speech. It is intended to come off as odd.

 

Stepping out of her car, Rachel could see Gibbs waving to her from the front window and smiling. Rachel returned the gesture and smiled back, pleased to note that, while there was still a wariness in Gibbs' eyes, there was also hope.

As Rachel walked up the porch steps, the front door swung open with Gibbs there to greet her; a finger to his lips as he tilted his head in the direction of the living room, where a beautiful rendition of R.E.M's "Perfect Circle" could be heard.

Once inside, Rachel saw Tony sitting at the piano, a look of blissful contentment on his face as he played and sang. He seemed a different man; confident and happy. And his musical ability betrayed the behavior of the frightened "child" she had met only a week before. Tony's voice was warm and honey sweet; slightly gravelly, yet mellow and soulful. There was a depth of emotion there that hinted at a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface. It was a voice that was both beautiful and heartbreaking. Coupled with Tony's skilled piano playing, Rachel was certain that, in another life, he could have successfully pursued a career in music.

"When did this start?" Rachel whispered, as she and Gibbs stood listening to Tony.

"Few days ago. He just went up to the piano and started playing." Gibbs chuckled softly, smiling with pride and affection. "Tony is really something, isn't he?"

"He certainly is," Rachel agreed, eyeing Gibbs' expression with interest. The look he was giving Tony was different from any look she had seen from him before. Gibbs appeared truly in awe of Tony.

And it really _was_ something. To hear Tony play, one would never know it had been nearly a year since he had gone anywhere near a piano. A year where his mind and spirit had been broken; his body weakened and wasting away. There was a strength and power to Tony's playing that betrayed all he had endured.

The song ended, and Rachel couldn't help but to clap softly as she moved to stand behind Tony.

"That was beautiful," Rachel praised, gently squeezing Tony's shoulders. "I never knew you had that kind of talent."

"Oh...Thanks." Tony looked up at Rachel in acknowledgment, then back down into his lap, his face flushed with embarrassment. "I like music. It makes me happy on my insides."

"Hearing you makes us all happy," Rachel told Tony, taking a seat beside him on the piano bench. "I don't think I've ever seen Jethro smile like that before."

Tony smiled bashfully, rocking from side to side; obviously pleased that he had made Gibbs smile.

"Dr. Kate's sister? Why are you here?" Tony finally asked, after a minute of silence.

"Well, I've come to see you, Tony," Rachel informed him, placing a gentle hand on his back. "Is that all right?"

"Yeah..." Tony whispered, eyes to the floor. "I just thought...I thought you didn't like me.

"Why on earth would you think that?" Rachel asked, placing her index finger under Tony's chin and gently coaxing him to look her in the eyes.

"Because...because..."Tony began rocking back and forth, rubbing his knees nervously. "Last time you were here, I made you sad."

"No, Tony," Rachel corrected him. "You didn't make me sad. I was sad because I miss my sister. But she was your friend, and I know you miss her, too. And you know what?"

Tony looked up at Rachel with questioning green eyes. "What?"

"Knowing that Kate had good friends like you and Jethro, I don't feel so sad. At the end of her life, she was in good company."

Tony gave an embarrassed smile, plunking out scales on the piano. "Why do you want to see me?" he asked quietly, looking closely at the keys. "Do you want me to talk about...talk about what happened to me?" Tony stumbled over his words, and for a moment, it seemed he was on the verge of crying.

"We can talk about whatever you want to. If you don't feel ready to talk about what happened, that's okay. I'd just like to get to know you a little better. Maybe try and understand how you're feeling."

Rachel realized she would have to approach things very carefully with Tony. He would open up when he was ready. But until then, she didn't want to risk pushing him so hard that he retreated back into himself.

"Okay," Tony quietly agreed, nodding. "Let's take this to the living room."

Almost immediately, Gibbs was at Tony's side, taking him by the hand and helping him to stand. It was a beautiful and touching sight; Gibbs anticipating Tony's needs without a word. A demonstration of pure love and devotion.

"Can you walk to the couch? Or do you need your wheelchair?" Gibbs asked, his tone gentle, casual, and void of expectation.

"If I walk, will you help me?" Tony squeezed Gibbs' hand a little tighter, grabbing onto the older man's arm with his free hand.

"I sure will," Gibbs answered, eyes filled with love and pride. "Whatever you need."

Standing at his full height, taking slow, deliberate steps forward, Tony somehow looked even more sickly. His tall, nearly skeletal body moved awkwardly; looking so fragile, as though he might collapse at any moment.

But Gibbs stayed close, encouraging Tony with warmth, patience and care. It was the most moving display of love Rachel could recall seeing in a long time. She couldn't help wondering how this love might change as Tony came to face all that had happened to him.

Once Gibbs and Tony reached the couch, they sat down together as one, Tony resting his head on Gibbs' shoulder; nestling into the older man as if seeking safety in the contact.

Rachel took a seat in an easy chair and checked her phone for a minute, not wanting to rush anything. Tony needed to feel at ease if he was going to open up, for her or anyone.

"It was scary," Tony finally said, fidgeting with his hands.

Both Rachel and Gibbs turned their eyes to Tony expectantly.

"When you were kidnapped, you mean?" Rachel asked, seeking clarification.

Tony nodded. "It was scary and confusing and...and they made me hurt," he said, drawing his legs up to his chest. "I wanted them to stop. I wanted them to stop so bad! But I never asked them to. I let them use me. I let them do whatever they wanted to me."

"You didn't 'let' them," Gibbs clarified, running his fingers through Tony's hair. "You don't share any of the blame in what those bastards did to you."

"No...I..." Stifling a sob, Tony shook his head. Whatever he was about to say, he'd obviously thought better of it.

"After awhile, my brain changed," Tony continued, after he'd taken a moment to pull himself together. "I stopped being Tony. I was just their pig, and I tried to be a good pig. And they still hurt me. But I got hugs, too. It was...I don't know. They were mean, but they were also nice." Tony grabbed a fistful of Gibbs' shirt and began sobbing softly.

"I don't understand...my brain is wrong. I don't know if people are nice or mean anymore. I mean, Jethro is nice. But he was mean before, when I was still Tony."

"What do you mean by that?" Rachel asked. "What do you mean by 'when I was still Tony'? Or earlier, when you said 'I stopped being Tony'?"

Rachel was hoping the questions would give Tony some calm and focus. His thoughts seemed to be spinning out of control, as he struggled to make sense of past and present, in relation to who he had become.

"I...I don't remember when I forgot Tony," Tony answered, sniffling. "I couldn't be him anymore, or my Masters would hurt me more. So I stopped being Tony, and then I forgot him. And now..." Tony let out a frustrated sob. "I'm sorry. I can't get my words right."

"Don't worry about it, Tony. You're doing great," Gibbs encouraged, squeezing Tony tightly to his body. "We want to hear everything you have to say. But if it's too much for you now, it can wait til another day.

Tony stared at Gibbs, worshiping green eyes filled with gratitude. Then, taking a few calming breaths, he slowly shook his head.

"I want to try", he said, wiping teary eyes with the heels of his hands. "I...I know I'm still Tony. But I don't feel like him. N-now I remember things, and I can't put my brain back together. My head is wrong. Like...like I'm not supposed to be Tony."

Rachel nodded in understanding. "You feel disconnected from your past. Like you're remembering somebody else' life. Does that sound right, Tony?"

Tony nodded, humming. "I don't wanna be old Tony anymore. When I think about him, I feel sad."

"And why is that?" Rachel asked, tilting her head inquisitively. "Why do you feel sad?"

Tony shook his head, whimpering.

Rachel leaned forward, giving Tony's knee a reassuring pat. "You don't have to answer that right now. But you also don't need to go back to being who you were before. Think of this as a fresh start, Tony. You can be whoever you want to be."

"But I don't know who I want to be," Tony whined helplessly.

"That's okay," Gibbs said softly, kissing the top of Tony's head. "It's something you figure out as you go. And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way."

Something in Gibbs' eyes caught Rachel's attention as he stared at Tony with complete love and devotion. A look beyond guilt. Beyond a sense of responsibility to the man in his arms. Observing their shared gaze, it was clear that the two men were completely dependent upon one another. It wasn't just a matter of Tony needing Gibbs. Gibbs needed for Tony to need him.


	26. Make the Nightmares Go Away

 

_Tony shivered, feeling the metal of the cuffs on his wrists and ankles cut into his skin as the entire weight of his body slumped forward, suspended from the wall only by short chains. He was no more than an object now. Left to hang uselessly, like some grotesque piece of art._

_The damp, musty smell of the basement mixed with the metallic smell of Tony's blood, and the ammonia odor of his urine. He would be punished for pissing himself. He was sure of it._

_The collar felt heavy around Tony's neck, and he wondered if, with his lungs compromised as they were, death would take him swiftly, or slowly and painfully. Taking a forced breath through the pain that had gripped his entire body, Tony guessed it would be the latter._

_A blindfold shrouded Tony's world in darkness. Earplugs deafened him. In this existence of blind silence, Tony's only companion was fear. A fear heightened by unknowing. Was he in here alone? Or was somebody close, just waiting to hurt him or somehow violate him?_

_Tony wondered how long it had been since Mark Ellsworth had kidnapped him from the bar. Two days? A week, maybe? Down here, he had lost all sense of time. He wondered if anyone was looking for him. Did they even notice he was gone? Did they care?_

_Of course they didn't. That's why Tony didn't fight back, even when he had still had the strength to do so. There was no one that would miss him. No one that wanted him in their life. No family to speak of, and no real friends. After all, if he couldn't trust Gibbs, who could he trust?_

_His entire life was an illusion, and now it was about to end at the hands of the boy he had disappointed. The boy who had counted on him. Trusted him to keep his family together as best he could. And Tony had let him down terribly._

_Dying at Mark's hand was no less than he deserved._

_Tony whimpered as he felt a hand grab his face, while another hand tugged at his hair, forcing him into a rough kiss._

_As a tongue forced itself down Tony's throat, leaving him breathless, he could feel another set of hands releasing him from the cuffs that bound him to the wall. Feeling himself go boneless, he was now held up only by the fingers in his hair and the rough, possessive kiss._

_Crying around the tongue that was choking him, Tony felt a stinging slap on his bottom. Moments later, he could feel himself being hoisted up over a shoulder._

_Having lost all sense of shame, Tony couldn't stop himself from crying. He just hoped that, whatever Mark and Kyle had planned for him, this would be what killed him._

 

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

 

Tony's eyes shot open, and he looked around frantically, confused for a moment, before he realized where he was.

He wasn't in that cold, dark basement anymore. Jethro had saved him from the bad men. They couldn't hurt him now. Jethro would keep him safe.

"Jethro..." Tony squeaked, looking out the open bedroom door into the hallway. He needed Jethro now. Needed to feel the security of the older man holding him. Needed Jethro to make the nightmares go away.

Slowly sitting up, Tony took a few calming breaths, trying to separate past from present. His eyes told him that he was home, safe with Jethro. But his emotions were still caught in his nightmare, unable to shake the vivid memories of what had been done to him.

Hearing the sound of an old movie playing on the TV, Tony let out a relieved sob. The sound was a comfort. A reassurance that Jethro was near.

Finding courage in that thought, Tony stood, slow and careful. With each step forward, he thought how much better he'd feel snuggled up next to Jethro. And wouldn't he be surprised to see Tony approach him all by himself, without any help or prompting?

But then...maybe Jethro didn't want him to.

Jethro had taken such good care of Tony; watching and guiding him. Making sure he didn't fall. To be so careless like this, walking around unsupervised, might just anger or disappoint Jethro. Tony would do anything to make the older man happy. But should he have asked before making such a reckless move as walking on his own.

Gripped by fear, uncertainty and indecision, Tony placed a hand on either side of the doorway, barely able to keep himself upright as his breathing sped up, and tears fell unbidden from his eyes.

_"Hey...Tony."_

The gentle voice came like a faint echo through Tony's anxious whimpers. It wasn't until Tony felt the steadying touch of of Jethro's hands on his shoulders that reality came back into focus.

Opening his eyes, Tony was surprised to see that Jethro didn't look angry or disappointed. Instead, he looked concerned. Scared, even.

"J-Jethro...Bad dream...I - I..." Tony began, struggling to find his voice.

"It's okay, Tony. Take your time," Jethro said kindly.

Tony nodded, sniffling. "Snuggle?"

"Sure." Jethro gave Tony a warm smile, leading him back to the bed.

Once the two were seated on the bed, Jethro didn't hesitate to pull Tony into his arms, holding him like a child. In response, Tony nuzzled his face into Jethro's chest, welcoming the contact.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispered, resting a hand upon Jethro's shoulder.

"Sorry for what?" Jethro asked, carding his fingers through Tony's hair.

"I...I wanted to see you. S-so I got out of bed and walked. But you never said I could. Maybe I shouldn't have..."

"That's enough of that, Tony," Jethro shushed him. "I'm proud of you for making the effort. To tell the truth, I don't think you need my guidance anymore. You've been walking just fine on your own these last few days."

Tony looked up innocently into Jethro's eyes. "You're not mad at me?"

"What? No, Tony. Of course not," Jethro reassured. "I'm gonna tell you something now, and I never want you to forget it. No one but you has any say in what you can or can't do with your body. How you move, where your feet take you...that's all up to you. You're nobody's puppet, Tony."

Tony sighed, resting his head on Jethro's chest. "I don't like being scared all the time."

"I know you don't." Jethro kissed the top of Tony's head softly. "And I wish I knew what to do to make you believe that you're safe with me. I'm not gonna leave you, Tony. As long as I live, I promise I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Thanks, Jethro." Tony smiled, hugging Jethro tighter. For the moment, he felt quite comforted. But it was a bittersweet comfort, as memories that felt somehow unreal served as a constant reminder that he used to be someone very different. Someone he knew he could never be again. Blinking back tears, Tony wondered how Jethro could ever care about someone as weak and pathetic as he was.

"I'm proud of you," Jethro said, as though reading Tony's mind. "I know it's not easy for you, remembering what Ellsworth and Taylor did to you and...remembering how I hurt you. But you're not hiding from it. And that takes real strength."

Tony didn't know what to say. He was so happy that he had made Jethro proud. Because there was nothing that Tony wanted more than to please the man who meant more to him than anything in the world. The man who saved him when he was scared and hurting. The one who, with a loving and gentle patience, helped Tony find his way back to himself.

Jethro had done so much for Tony. It was the very least that Tony could do to make him happy.

Tony smiled contentedly, breathing in Jethro's unique smell; coffee, sawdust, and a lingering smoky smell from the steaks he had grilled earlier. Held here in Jethro's arms, Tony felt safe and grounded. It was a nice feeling. One that he needed to hold on to, at this time when memories were overwhelming, and the thought of being left alone for even a moment terrifying enough to send Tony into a panic.

"Can you stay here?" Tony asked shyly. "I mean...can you cuddle with me all night?"

Tony felt uneasy at the silence that followed, and the noticeable change in Jethro's breathing made him wonder if he'd asked too much of the older man.

"I'm sorry," Tony said sheepishly, extracting himself from Jethro's arms and lying down on his side. "That was weird."

Tony heard Jethro's breath hitch behind him, as if he was coming out of some kind of daze.

"No, Tony. It's not weird at all," Jethro said, his tone almost apologetic. "Of course I'll stay here and cuddle with you. Anything to help you feel safe."

Tucking Tony in, Jethro placed a soft kiss on his cheek, draping his arm lovingly over Tony's body. And Tony couldn't help thinking how different he seemed from the Jethro he had been remembering. That Jethro was rarely this gentle and kind. Only once, if Tony's memory was to be believed; when he'd had the plague. Yet another time when he had been scared, powerless and vulnerable. But even then, Tony couldn't remember this level of tenderness. This was a new Jethro. A different Jethro.

As Tony closed his eyes, wrapped in Jethro's protective warmth, he noticed a strange flutter in his heart. New kinds of feelings for Jethro that he was too tired to try and understand. But Tony decided that he didn't need to understand these new feelings just yet. All that mattered was that they made him happy. Jethro made him happy.

In this moment, life was perfect.


	27. I Love Every Part Of You

 

 

 _"Something is wrong with me,"_ Tony thought, as he lay on his side, staring at the wall.

It was moments like this - these rare and beautiful moments of calm - that Tony realized just how abnormal he was.

Tony had just woken up from a sleep that was calm and restful; a welcome relief from the usual nightmares. There were no tears now. No fear upon waking. Just peace and comfort. And Tony knew that this had everything to do with the man whose arm was now wrapped around his torso. Jethro; the one Tony loved and depended upon more than anyone in the world.

Tony appreciated being rescued and given a home. He appreciated Jethro patiently taking care of him while his memories were locked away, and the continued care and patience in the present, as they returned.

But now that Tony had a clearer understanding of who he used to be - who he still _should_ be - he realized it wasn't fair to be asking all that he was of Jethro.

Sure, Tony had been taking small steps towards independence. He was walking again, and he was getting better at feeding himself. And sometimes he didn't mind that. When he felt happy and safe, when his world made sense, he was fine with being a little more self sufficient.

But there were other times - times when Tony was scared, confused or overwhelmed - when he wanted nothing more than to just let go and be babied. To retreat into his little head space and have Jethro take care of all of his needs.

Even in his more adult moments, there were parts of his "baby" self that Tony just couldn't seem to let go of.

Tony could feel his face heat up with shame at the thought. Why did his fears make it so hard to let certain things go? Why did they keep a part of him so mentally and emotionally stunted? Now that he remembered his life before, there was no excuse for him to be this way.

Tears stung Tony's eyes as he felt Jethro's breath on his back. Jethro was too good to him. He didn't deserve this. He shouldn't have to wipe shit off of Tony's ass. But he did so without complaint. So gentle and kind. Kinder than Tony deserved.

 _"You're pathetic, DiNozzo,"_ Tony thought, frowning. _"Selfish and pathetic. Jethro will never see you as anything more than some messed up head case if you don't start acting your age."_

And there it was. Tony's breath hitched as the realization hit him. This wasn't just about not wanting to be a burden to Jethro. Sure, that was a big part of it. But it was more than that. Tony wanted Jethro to think well of him. He wanted Jethro to find him attractive. He wanted Jethro to want to be around him, rather than feel obligated to.

Closing his eyes, Tony forced a sigh, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. He felt an overwhelming need to be taken care of. It would take everything he had to fight the urge to slip into his "little" behaviors. But fight it he must. For Jethro.

Gently removing Jethro's arm from his waist, Tony slowly sat up, hoping not to disturb the sleeping man beside him. It was time to take the next step towards adulthood. Whether he wanted to or not.

Tony sat at the edge of the bed for a minute, taking shaky breaths. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was this simple task - something most children could do - such a challenge for him? Physically, Tony knew that he was more than capable. But there was a mental and emotional block that he struggled to get past. And Tony hated himself for that.

Finally moving to stand, Tony felt Jethro's hand grab his wrist.

"Everything all right?" the older man asked groggily.

"Just...ah...just thought I'd try using the toilet," Tony answered with hesitation, as if saying it out loud might somehow jinx him.

"All right. If you're sure you're ready," Jethro said with a slight smile. His voice was encouraging, but held no expectation, which comforted Tony greatly.

"Yeah. I...I think I am," Tony lied. In Tony's mind, it didn't matter if he was ready or not. If he wanted to prove to Jethro that he was more than a disgusting baby, this was something that he needed to do.

"I don't have any underwear for you. But there's a package of pull ups in the bottom left drawer under the sink," Jethro informed Tony.

"Thanks," Tony said, standing up and moving to exit the room. Secretly, he was thankful. He wasn't sure he was ready for underpants just yet. Pull ups were a big enough step right now.

He just hoped that, whatever he was able to accomplish, it would be enough to make Jethro proud.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs opened his eyes to the sound of soft, defeated sobs. Wasting no time, he was up and out of bed in one motion.

He'd been feeling uneasy ever since Tony declared his intention to use the bathroom. But he didn't want to discourage the younger man. After trying so hard to convince Tony not to fear independent action, ordering him not to use the toilet would only confuse him.

As Gibbs made his way down the hall to the bathroom, he reminded himself that, whatever state he found Tony in, he would need to remain calm. Emotionally, Tony was still very fragile.

"Tony?" Gibbs called softly, knocking on the bathroom door. "You okay in there?"

"Daddy - I mean...Jethro," Tony whimpered softly. "...need you..."

Gibbs' heart sank at being called "daddy" once again. Did this mean that Tony had lost some of the significant progress he had made? Had Gibbs made a mistake in letting Tony push himself so hard.

Gibbs took a deep, calming breath. He'd have to save his own worries and guilt for another time. Right now, Tony was his only priority.

Entering the bathroom, Gibbs saw Tony curled up on the tile floor and sobbing; wearing only a t-shirt and a full diaper. Tony's pajama pants were placed neatly across the side of the bathtub. The bottom left hand drawer beneath the sink was open; a single pull up laying on top of the package. It looked as though Tony had come in with every intention of using the toilet, then became overwhelmed with the idea and broke down.

"I'm sorry," Tony said softly as Gibbs approached him. "I thought I could..."

"Shh...it's okay, Tony." Gibbs dropped to the floor beside Tony, pulling him into his arms. "You don't need to force yourself to do something you're not ready for."

"This shouldn't be so hard for me," Tony sobbed into Gibbs' shoulder. "Why am I such a freak?"

"No, Tony. You're not a freak. I've never thought that," Gibbs said truthfully, lightly rubbing Tony's back. "And the last thing I want is for you to be doing anything that makes you upset and uncomfortable. So tell me...what do you need from me right now?"

Tony looked up at Gibbs, eyes glistening with tears, his face red and splotchy. "You'll hate me."

"I could never hate you, sweetheart," Gibbs promised, wiping away Tony's tears with his thumb. "Go on. You can tell me."

Tony looked down, hiding his face in Gibbs' chest.

"Do you want me to change your diaper?" Gibbs asked, massaging the back of Tony's head.

Tony whimpered, nodding.

"It's okay. I'm not mad," Gibbs reassured Tony. Gently releasing himself from their shared embrace, he then stood.

"Come on." Gibbs offered Tony his hand, helping him to his feet. "Let's get you out of that dirty diaper."

Leading the way, Gibbs kept hold of Tony's hand as the two men made their way back to Tony's room.

Tony kept his eyes downcast, whimpering softly the whole way. He moved slowly, his full diaper causing him to waddle a little. The sight was both adorable and heartbreaking. Tony seemed so confused.

 _"This must be terrifying for him,"_ Gibbs thought sadly, as they entered the bedroom. Gibbs would do everything he could to comfort Tony. Maybe he could even help Tony to accept himself the way he was.

But Gibbs knew that Tony remembered the way he had been treated before. Gibbs had been unkind, dismissive and deceptive. So why should Tony be trusting of any kindness he was shown now? Gibbs could only hope Tony realized that, just as the past several months had changed him, Gibbs had changed, too.

Gibbs first made the bed. Then, he laid the changing pad down for Tony. All the while, Tony stood in the corner of the room, sucking on the knuckle of his index finger.

"Come on and lie down," Gibbs told Tony, smoothing out the changing pad.

Nodding, Tony slowly approached the bed.

"Sorry 'bout this..." Tony murmured apologetically, lying down.

"Ah, I don't mind." Gibbs set down a diaper and some fresh wipes. "I'm glad that you trust me enough to take care of you like this." Cupping Tony's cheek, Gibbs leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, then set to work changing him.

Tony was quiet during the diaper change, content to gaze at the tree just outside the window. The whole process seemed to have a calming effect on him. The whimpering died down, then stopped altogether. His body relaxed completely. Tony's eyes glazed over, as his thumb slowly made its way into his mouth. Sucking with purpose, for the first time that morning, he looked content. Like he didn't have a care in the world.

This new behavior concerned Gibbs. Yes, it was true that, ever since Tony's memories had returned, he seemed to remain stuck in a stage between child and adult. There was still a need for love, reassurance and care, that extended beyond diapers. But "adult" Tony had always been clearly present. Working through the painful recollections. Struggling to express his emotions in ways that were both appropriate and constructive. At all times, Tony seemed to possess an adult understanding of things, even while acting very young.

But that awareness seemed absent now. Tony's "baby" self had taken full control. The incident in the bathroom must have been the final moments of Tony fighting the losing battle against his own nature.

Gibbs was certain that "big" Tony would resurface at some point. In the meantime, Gibbs had to figure out just how young Tony had regressed, and how much care he would require.

Fastening the tabs on Tony's diaper, Gibbs noticed that the younger man had fallen asleep, thumb still in his mouth.

Smiling at the sight, Gibbs gave Tony a light kiss on the cheek, his heart swelling with affection. He hoped that someday, Tony could come to understand that Gibbs loved _every_ part of him; child, adult, broken and whole. And that love would only continue to grow with time, as they came to understand one another, together.

 

 


	28. Baby Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All will be explained in later chapters. But since some of you might be wondering why Tony is regressing like this, I thought I should explain a bit now as well.  
> Ever since Tony's mother died, he grew up without parental love and care. When he was kidnapped, something broke inside him mentally, and now that he's being cared for by Gibbs, he is craving that care. At this point in the story, it's getting harder and harder for him to fight this.
> 
> I hope this explanation makes sense. :)
> 
> Also, this is my first time writing about this particular subject. While I did my fair share of research, I'm sure this isn't perfect. Please try and be forgiving of any unintentional errors in presentation.
> 
> Finally, this story is not going to become all about the age play. It's only part of the journey to Tony's recovery. There's lots more to be explored. :)

 

 

As Tony blinked, slowly coming into awareness, he found himself in Jethro's lap, seated at the head of the bed. His head rested on Jethro's shoulder, while his knees rested at either side of Jethro's waist. Jethro sang softly to Tony, rubbing soothing circles on his back. It was nice. Tony felt safe, loved and grounded.

The only problem was, he had no recollection of how he got there.

"Jethro..." Tony moaned sleepily.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jethro greeted affectionately, kissing the top of Tony's head. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I..." Tony snuggled into Jethro's chest, breathing in his scent. He knew that he should sit up, and get off of Jethro's lap. But he just felt too content and comfortable where he was. "What happened? Did I...?"

Tony felt a burning in the pit of his stomach, as realization slowly hit him.

"I regressed, didn't I?" At that, he sat up abruptly. "Oh God...I didn't mean - "

"Shhh...it's okay."

Jethro pulled Tony close, so that they were once again positioned as they had been before. Every instinct in Tony told him he should be fighting this. But he just couldn't. Jethro's touch had an instantly calming effect on him, and he wasn't going to deny himself this comfort. Tony felt his breathing even out, and his muscles relax completely. Against all protest from his "adult mind", his "baby body" seemed to be winning the battle.

"I don't mind," Jethro continued, as he resumed rubbing Tony's back. "I like taking care of you."

Tony's heart warmed at Jethro's words, and he felt himself practically melt into the older man's embrace.

"How long...?"

"About an hour. You fell asleep while I was changing you." Jethro chuckled fondly in recollection. "When I tried to move you under the covers, you started whining and reaching for me."

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, trying to ignore the humiliation he felt at his own loss of control. He needed to understand what was happening to him. He needed to know what Jethro saw.

"And that's when...this happened?" Tony asked, referring to their current position and hoping Jethro understood. Held like this, Tony could feel his adult mind slipping.

"Yeah. You settled pretty down pretty quick once I had you in my lap."

Jethro said the words with such a caring, gentle tone. Like a loving parent. It was nice, but felt oddly surreal.

"You're really okay with me being...like this?" Tony had a hard time believing that his take-no-shit former boss, who was more likely to give head slaps than hugs, would be so tolerant of Tony's regression.

The hand which had been rubbing Tony's back stilled for a moment, before wandering up to the back of Tony's neck and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You need to understand something, Tony. Whether you're a baby or an adult, I love you, and will always put you first."

At these words, all Tony could do was cry. Tears of gratitude. Tears of disbelief that anyone could love him so unconditionally. He wasn't used to receiving that kind of love. Not since his mother died. Having been deprived of love for so many years, Jethro's words seemed almost unreal.

"I...I don't understand," Tony said hoarsely, willing his body to sit up and look at Jethro. "Why me?"

Holding Tony's face between his hands, Jethro gave him a sad smile. "Because for the first time in years, I'm thinking about someone other than myself. Because after years of you having my six, I finally see just how special you are."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "I don't -"

"Come here." Jethro pulled Tony back into his arms, holding him close.

"Never forget that you are loved," Jethro whispered, his breath warming Tony's neck. "No matter how 'young' or 'old' you are, you'll always have a home with me."

That's when the dam broke. Quiet sobs turned to loud wails as relief washed over Tony. Wrapped in the security of Jethro's love, Tony didn't feel the need to pretend anymore.

Without realizing it was even happening, Tony let go. His body relaxed against Jethro, and his mind drifted, so that his only thought was the love he felt for the man who held him.

And if he softly babbled "dada", he never even noticed.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

"Jethro, do I like coffee?" Tony asked, looking up from the piano at the older man who stood, coffee cup in hand, watching him play.

"If you wanna call it that," Jethro snorted.

"What do you mean?" Tony took his hands off the keyboard, giving Jethro a perplexed look.

"What you call 'coffee', I call 'dessert'," Jethro smirked, taking a sip. "I can make a cup for you tomorrow morning if you want."

"Yeah!" Tony answered with a big grin. "I'd like that."

"Okay." Jethro had to smile at Tony's enthusiasm. "I've been keeping a carton of hazelnut creamer in the fridge for you, just in case."

Stepping forward, Jethro put a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder. "Let's get you settled in the living room. Rachel will be here any minute now."

Tony nodded, standing. "Do you think she can fix me?"

"I think she can help you," Jethro said confidently, leading Tony to the couch. "Not so sure you need to be fixed."

Tony gave Jethro an incredulous look as he sat. "Are you serious?"

"Let's just see what Rachel has to say", Jethro said sadly, as both men turned towards the sound of Rachel's car pulling into the driveway.

"Be right back," Jethro promised, kissing Tony on the forehead.

Tony smiled, watching as Jethro went to let Rachel in. He could remember a time when Jethro kept the door unlocked at all times. Now, it stayed locked. Because Jethro wanted Tony to feel safe.

Tony sighed happily, watching Jethro greet Rachel and thinking how lucky he was to be in the older man's care.

"Hey, Tony," Rachel greeted, setting down a large gift bag and taking a seat in the easy chair next to the couch. "How are you feeling today?"

Tony shrugged. "Fine. I think. Don't know..." he laughed uncomfortably. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh, we'll get to that later," Rachel answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Jethro told me a bit about what's been going on since I last saw you. But I want to hear it from you. Is there anything you'd like to share with me."

Feeling his face turn red, Tony averted Rachel's gaze, watching, instead, as Jethro took a seat next to him on the couch. Reaching over, he clung to the older man's arm as if it were a security blanket.

"Go on," Jethro said, carding his fingers through Tony's hair. "Let Rachel help you."

Tony turned his head, burying his face in the crook of Jethro's arm. "Sometimes I act like a baby," Tony finally said, voice soft and muffled.

"Tony..." Jethro's tone was firm, but loving, as he gently tapped Tony's cheek, coaxing him to look up. "I want you to look at Rachel when you talk to her. And speak clearly."

Tony nodded, slightly embarrassed. But also, oddly, loving the firm guidance.

"I act like a baby sometimes," Tony told Rachel again, voice clear, but timid. Looking up at Rachel through half lidded eyes, Tony knew he was barely masking his shame.

"I don't mean to," he continued, gripping Jethro's arm a little more tightly." And I know I'm not supposed to..."

"Hey...I told you, I don't mind," Jethro reminded Tony. "I enjoy taking care of you - big or little."

"I know, and I'm glad." Tony smiled up at Jethro. "But I'm a grown up. I remember I'm a grown up. And grown ups aren't supposed to act like babies. It's not normal." Tony seemed to grow more agitated with every word, his voice building to a near whine by the time he was finished.

" 'Normal' is different for everyone, sweetheart," Jethro pointed out, wrapping an arm around Tony and holding him close.

With his head leaning against Jethro's shoulder, Tony could instantly feel himself begin to calm.

"Jethro's right," Rachel agreed, smiling at the sight of the two men. "And for some, regression is a good way to deal with traumatic events. Or...as I suspect is also the case for you, feelings of loss and abandonment. Feelings that go back to your childhood?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't wanna...don't..."

"That's okay," Rachel said, reaching over and placing a hand on Tony's knee. "We don't need to talk about that today."

At those words, Tony seemed to settle, bringing his knees up to his chest, and positioning himself so that he was nearly in Jethro's lap.

"But I do think that you could benefit from letting go, and giving in to your regressions. In a case like yours, some non sexual age play might be beneficial."

Tony startled, sitting upright just a bit. He was embarrassed by the suggestion. But, at the same time, a part of him found it appealing.

Confused and uncertain, Tony turned to the one person he trusted to decide for him.

"Jethro?" Tony watched the older man for his reaction, certain that he would dismiss the idea of age play without a second thought.

To Tony's surprise, Jethro smiled, nodding towards Rachel. "I think it's a good idea. Rachel and I have talked about it, and we think this could really help you."

"But...isn't it a little...weird?" Tony asked, leaning back onto Jethro's body.

"Nah." Jethro shook he's head. "You seem happy during your regressions, and a lot calmer once you come out of them."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "Imagine how much you would benefit if you stopped fighting these regressions, and welcomed them instead. I think it could bring some needed balance to your life."

"So, whatta ya say?" Gibbs asked, running a loving hand up and down Tony's arm.

Making a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a nervous laugh, Tony looked from Jethro to Rachel with a teary eyed smile.

"I actually feel relieved," he confessed. "To have you tell me that it's all right to feel this way...that I'm not a freak...and now you're letting me...Thank you!"

Once again, Tony's words were failing him. He hoped that Rachel and Jethro could understand.

"Glad we could help," Rachel said, picking up the gift bag. "Now...back to what's in here. I got you a few things, to ease you into your little head space. Hopefully, it will help make the time more enjoyable for you."

"What's in there?" Tony asked, sitting up.

"A couple of onesies, some pajamas...You can try those on later," Rachel answered, rummaging through the bag. "For now, I'd like you to get back on Jethro's lap. Relax, and let him cradle you."

Tony obeyed without question, thinking how surprising it was that he wasn't more embarrassed to be acting so young around Rachel. But it seemed that lately, Tony was becoming more baby than adult.

Once Tony was comfortably settled in Jethro's arms, Rachel stood, carrying a large, baby blue blanket with bright red fire trucks on it.

"There. Doesn't that feel nice?" she asked, placing the blanket over Tony and tucking it snugly around his body.

Tony could only moan contentedly. His mind was already beginning to slip, thumb drifting into his mouth.

"No, baby boy," Jethro said softly, gently lowering Tony's thumb away from his mouth with one hand, while taking something from Rachel with the other.

"Isn't this better?" Jethro asked, holding a blue pacifier up in front up Tony. It was larger than the ones Tony had seen for babies, clearly made for an adult mouth.

Without giving it a thought, Tony opened his mouth, rooting for the object until Jethro popped it in. Sucking happily, Tony felt his eyes become heavy with sleep.

"That's it, Tony," Rachel cooed. "Let go, and allow yourself to sink into your little head space. Don't even think about it. Trust, and let Jethro take care of all your needs."

It only took a moment for Tony to regress completely. His world became the arms that held him; voices around him little more than faint echoes to his ears.

Tony had surrendered control to his little side without a fight, and he wasn't ready to grow up any time soon.


	29. A Second Chance For Both Of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who continues to stick with this story as it evolves. Though confident in the direction I'm taking it, I was worried that some people might be put off by the age play. Rest assured that it will be handled respectfully, and will play an important part in Tony's recovery.
> 
> I want to give special thanks to nightchild78 and Cackymn for their encouragement and continued faith and confidence in what I am doing. It has helped me tremendously going forward with this!
> 
> Tony will be "big" again in the next chapter. (Well, as big as he is capable of being at this point.) But I wanted to devote this chapter to Gibbs getting better acquainted with "baby Tony." I hope you enjoy it. :)

 

 

Gibbs smiled down lovingly at the sleeping baby in his arms. Long lashes resting above sunken, sallow cheeks, which would hopefully grow plumper and pinker with time. Mouth rhythmically sucking on a pacifier. Hands, balled into fists, resting under his chin. Tony was beautiful; his beautiful, perfect baby boy, and there was no one he loved more in the world.

"Surprising, isn't it?" Rachel commented, gazing at the two men in fond reflection. "Who would think you, of all people, would go along with this so willingly? "

Gibbs laughed softly, caressing Tony's cheek. "Yeah, well, Tony's been acting a lot like a baby for awhile now. I guess it's only natural that I fell into the role of 'daddy'."

"That's true," Rachel nodded with a knowing smirk. "But, from all I knew about you before, I never would have thought you'd go along with the age play. Judging from Tony's reaction, I suspect he didn't think you'd go along with it, either.

"Anything for Tony," Gibbs whispered, tucking the blanket a little more snugly around his boy. "I gotta admit, though, this is all new to me. Taking care of Tony? No problem. I've been doing it for months. But this business with pacifiers and onsies? I've never tried it on a grown man before. It's gonna take some getting used to."

"I know," Rachel acknowledged. "I'll do whatever I can to help. And my first piece of advice is to adjust your language. You need to stop thinking of Tony as an adult when he's like this. In this state, he's a baby. It's important that you make this distinction between his child and adult personalities."

"Thinking of Tony as a baby shouldn't be too hard." Gibbs looked down thoughtfully at Tony. "But even 'adult' Tony acts very young most of the time. It's hard to explain, but..." Gibbs' voice trailed off, as he found himself overwhelmed by the puzzle that was Tony DiNozzo.

"I know it's confusing," Rachel said sympathetically. "And it's even more so for Tony. But I think that letting him be 'little' like this will help sort things out. Eventually, you'll likely end up seeing a clearer distinction between baby and adult Tony."

"Do you think he'll always need the age play?" Gibbs asked, unsure whether or not he wanted Tony to outgrow this particular need. Surprisingly, Gibbs found that he enjoyed playing parent - a feeling which confused him even more.

"It's hard to say for sure," Rachel answered. "Tony may outgrow it. Or he may need it for the rest of his life. I suspect it will be somewhere in the middle. As Tony gets to a healthier place emotionally, the time he spends as a baby might lessen. Though I doubt it will ever go away completely."

"I'm surprised you know so much about this," Gibbs commented. "It is really that common a condition?"

"Not terribly common," Rachel replied. "But more common than you might think. Tony's certainly not the first patient I've treated who uses regression as a coping mechanism." She laughed, motioning towards the gift bag. "He is, however, the first patient to receive an 'age play starter kit.' "

"I appreciate it," Gibbs said with a soft chuckle. "And I'll be happy to pay you back for all of this. I bet it wasn't cheap."

"No need," Rachel said dismissively. "My sister cared about both of you very much. In a way, I guess we're family."

"Yeah." Gibbs smiled. "I guess we are."

"I've actually got more in my car," Rachel informed Gibbs, reaching into the bag and pulling out an adult sized baby bottle. "Just a few toys. I'll get them after I prepare Tony's bottle. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Gibbs smiled, looking down at Tony, who was starting to stir. "Looks like he might need it soon."

"Wonderful! Do you have any milk?" Rachel asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

"Sure do. There's a full carton in the fridge."

"Perfect." Rachel smiled at Gibbs and his boy. "Now, just relax and enjoy this time with your baby boy."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Looking around the living room, Gibbs couldn't help smiling. A play mat lay spread on the floor. On it was a toy piano; sure to entertain and delight little Tony. It was a small thing, with only eight keys; each one playing a different children's song when hit.

Peeking out of yet another gift bag were an assortment of stuffed animals; a panda bear, a unicorn and a giraffe.

Happy tears stung Gibbs eyes as he took in the sight. Ever since losing his wife and only child, he never thought he'd have this again; the warmth and unconditional love of a child. And he certainly never expected it from Tony - a man who was, in body, anyway, very much an adult.

But beneath the surface of that brave, loyal, intelligent agent - the best agent Gibbs had ever worked with - this child was always there. Gibbs could see it now. A little boy, searching for love, care, praise and acceptance. Seeking out the parental affection he lacked in his early life.

Gibbs couldn't see it at the time. Tony probably couldn't see it either. It took trauma and tragedy to fully unleash the child who had lived hidden so long within Tony.

But now that this child was here, fully present in his arms, Gibbs was going to shower him with all of the love and care he could give. And he would do the same for Tony when he was big, finding that delicate balance between the two sides of the boy / man that he loved.

Tony's legs began to kick a little as he squirmed in Gibbs' lap, whining. After a short time, the whines escalated to pitiful whimpers; the pacifier falling out of Tony's mouth and landing on his chest.

"Hey there, baby boy," Gibbs cooed, grabbing the pacifier and setting it on the end table. "It's okay. Daddy's got you."

Tony calmed at the sound of Gibbs' voice. Eyes widening in recognition, he reached out his hands, clumsily pawing at his daddy's face.

Gibbs chuckled, gently grabbing Tony's hands and giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "You hungry, baby?" he asked, reaching over and grabbing the bottle off of the end table.

"Ba-ba." Tony reached for the bottle, smacking his lips.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Gibbs laughed affectionately, placing the nipple in Tony's mouth.

Tony latched on hungrily, sucking down the milk with gusto.

"Slow down, baby," Gibbs whispered, slowly rubbing Tony's arm, in the hopes it would encourage him to take his time with the bottle. "You don't want to get a tummy ache."

It seemed to work. Tony's sucking slowed, and he settled into Gibbs' arms, staring at his daddy in loving contentment.

"So, just plain milk. Is that what...big babies usually drink from their bottles?" Gibbs asked Rachel, not taking his eyes off of Tony."

"Some do. Others drink nutrition drinks, juice, or even baby formula," Rachel answered. "Experiment and see what Tony likes."

"Thanks. I'll do that." Gibbs smiled up briefly at Rachel before turning his attention back to Tony. "So, where did you get all this...'baby' stuff?"

There's a website a couple of my patients have used and are happy with, so I just ordered from them. But, because I know you're not tech savvy..." Rachel reached into her bag. "I brought you their paper catalog."

"That's good thinking," Gibbs chuckled. But he made a mental note not to discount the idea of online ordering altogether. McGee and Abby would probably be happy to help out with that. Gibbs smiled to himself, imagining Abby going nuts picking out things for little Tony.

Looking into the beauty of Tony's green eyes, Gibbs was reminded of the way Tony had been in the months following his rescue; child - like, innocent and vulnerable. But there was one noticeable difference now. The fear, which had so defined Tony at that time, seemed absent. He looked up at Gibbs, communicating his absolute trust in the older man.

Lightly tapping Tony's cheek, Gibbs carefully pulled the nipple of the now empty bottle out of Tony's mouth.

"All done, baby boy," Gibbs said softly, gently coaxing Tony's body up to a sitting position. He wasn't sure if Tony would need to be burped. But until he knew how young Tony had regressed, Gibbs figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

To Gibbs' relief, Tony was able to help with the process, and was soon sitting up on his own in his daddy's lap.

"Good boy," Gibbs praised, eliciting a smile from Tony. "Now, why don't you come rest your head on daddy's shoulder?" Gibbs tapped his shoulder, not sure how much Tony could understand at the moment, and hoping the gesture would help.

Babbling, Tony scooted forward on Gibbs' lap, leaning forward and resting his head on the offered shoulder.

With a contented sigh, Gibbs rubbed circles on Tony's back for a minute before giving it a few light taps, causing the boy to let out a loud burp.

"Feel better now?" Gibbs asked, lightly patting Tony on the back.

Tony snuggled happily into his daddy's warmth, and Gibbs wished they could stay like this forever. But he knew it was important to gauge where Tony was at with his regressions, and better to do it while Rachel was there to help Gibbs figure it all out.

"All right, big boy," Gibbs said, grabbing hold of Tony's arms and gently pushing him off of his chest. "You wanna play?"

"Pyay?" Tony asked, blinking.

Gibbs simply nodded and smiled, pointing towards the play mat.

"Nano!" Tony exclaimed, leaning forward and using his hands for leverage as he brought his knees to the floor.

Once he was down on all fours, Tony then excitedly crawled over to the play mat, sitting his diapered bottom (which Gibbs knew he would need to change soon) down with a clumsy "plop."

Eyeing the tiny piano with curiosity, Tony barely seemed to notice as Gibbs and Rachel approached to take a seat on the floor beside him.

Reaching out, Tony hit the blue key, squealing with delight and clapping as it played the tune to "London Bridge." His claps were awkward and uncoordinated. His laughter, pure joy.

Hitting the green key, Tony continued to laugh, squeal and clap, as the tune to "Old McDonald" played.

"Daddy! Daddy, I pyay!" Tony exclaimed, looking proudly at Gibbs.

"You sure did," Gibbs laughed, giving his boy a hug. "Great job!"

Rachel, who had been mostly observing up to this point, smiled at the sight that played out before her. "I don't think I've ever seen Tony look so happy," she commented. "I think that giving him permission to let go and be little was the right call."

Watching Tony play so happily, Gibbs couldn't agree more. A year ago, Gibbs could have never imagined this was where life would find the two men. But at this moment, everything felt perfect.


	30. Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is a special day. One year ago today, I posted the first chapter of this story. In the year that followed, it has taken me places creatively that I never thought I'd dare to go. And I found that, with every chapter, I was coming to understand these characters better than I ever had before. This has honestly been the most beautifully rewarding experience I've had writing fan fiction - and there's still plenty of story left to tell!
> 
> Thank you to all of the readers who have stuck with me on this journey, through every twist and turn. Through both the dark, brutal moments and the loving, tender ones. I am so happy that you came along for the ride with me!

 

 

Gibbs smiled to himself, as he plated up the pancakes and set them on the table. His home was filled with an easy comfort, now that Tony understood that it was okay to be little if he needed to. As for Gibbs, he was finally coming to realize how much he needed and missed taking care of another person. And now that Gibbs knew what Tony needed, and had the tools to help him, he didn't feel so powerless. They could finally move forward in this new life they shared together - whatever that would end up meaning in the long term.

Grabbing an adult sized bib off of the back of a chair, Gibbs placed it around Tony's neck. He had bought it well before the idea of age play had even been brought up. Because, big or little, Tony got messy when he ate.

Tony woke up big that morning. But he still insisted on wearing his baby blue footie pajamas, claiming they felt like "a hug for my whole body."

This immaturity in Tony's language, and his reluctance to let go of the things that made him a "baby", served as a reminder to Gibbs that being little came much more naturally to Tony than being big did.

"Still want that coffee?" Gibbs asked, cutting Tony's pancakes up into bite sized pieces for him.

"Yes please!" Tony said happily, seeming surprised that Gibbs had remembered their conversation from the previous morning.

"Coming right up," Gibbs laughed, setting Tony's plate in front of him. "Now eat your pancakes, before they get cold."

Walking over to the cupboard, Gibbs got out his coffee mug and Tony's sippy cup and set them down on the counter.

"Tim and Abby will be stopping by soon," Gibbs informed Tony, pouring the coffee. "So if you hear someone at the door, don't be scared. It's just them."

"Really? That's great!" Tony exclaimed, setting down his fork. "When will they be here?"

"Any minute now," Gibbs said casually, stirring some creamer into Tony's coffee and tossing the spoon into the sink. "I think they've missed you."

Screwing the lid onto Tony's cup, Gibbs then handed it off to the younger man.

"I missed them, too." Tony smiled as he accepted the cup and brought it to his mouth, taking a slow sip. "Yummy!" he said, smacking his lips and sounding very much like a child who just had their first taste of ice cream.

Gibbs laughed, ruffling Tony's hair. And it was during that perfect moment that the doorbell rang, alerting them to their visitor's arrival.

"I'll let them in." Gibbs kissed Tony on his forehead. "Eat your breakfast."

Walking to the door, Gibbs could already hear Abby's excited voice outside. He shook his head, laughing to himself. Gibbs knew that Abby would be excited to come over and pick out "baby things" for Tony. He just hoped that McGee could act as a buffer, so Tony wouldn't feel too overwhelmed.

Thankfully, by the time Gibbs opened the door, Abby seemed to have calmed down, simply greeting him with a big smile.

"Heya, Gibbs!" She said cheerily, a small gift bag in her hand. "Where's Tony?"

"In the kitchen, eating his breakfast," Gibbs answered, tilting his head towards the kitchen. "There's a little left, if you're hungry."

"No thanks. We stopped for breakfast on the way here," McGee politely declined.

"All right." Gibbs smiled, giving McGee a friendly pat on the back. "Come on in."

Entering the kitchen, Gibbs' heart warmed at the sight before him. Dropping his fork onto the table, Tony looked up from his plate of pancakes, face and bib covered in syrup and crumbs. He looked adorable - and at this moment, appeared much younger than his 40 plus years.

"Hi Tim! Hi Abby!" Tony greeted with a messy grin. "I remembered I like coffee!"

"That's awesome, buddy!" McGee smiled, leaning in to give his friend a hug, then stepping back to stand with Gibbs so that Abby could have her moment with him.

"Hey, Tony," Abby said in a sing-song voice, reaching into the gift bag. "I brought you some presents."

"Wait til he's done eating, Abs," Gibbs told Abby, sounding as much like a parent to her as he had become to Tony.

"But I'm all done!" Tony insisted, a slight whine present in his voice.

"Really?" Gibbs folded his arms, looking at Tony's plate. "Looks to me like you've still got a couple bites left."

Picking of his fork, Tony quickly shoveled the remaining bites into his mouth, grinning playfully.

"Cheeky!" Abby giggled.

"All right,"Gibbs chuckled, grabbing a wash cloth that was draped over the faucet and wetting it. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Tony sat quietly, letting Gibbs wipe him clean. He seemed to be at the stage now that Gibbs liked to call "barely big"; somewhere between his adult and baby personalities, but at a point where he could easily go full - on baby at any moment.

"All right. Whatta ya got, Abs?" Gibbs asked, wiping the last bit of food off of Tony's face.

"Aww..." Abby put her hand over her heart, tilting her head to the side. "I never thought I'd hear you say those words again, Gibbs."

"Just give Tony his damn presents," Gibbs laughed, rinsing out the wash cloth.

"Well..." Abby set the bag down on the table, taking a seat beside Tony. "Since big Tony likes movies so much, I figured little Tony might like them, too."

Reaching into the bag, Abby pulled out some DVDs. "We've got _Toy Story, Monsters Inc, Follow That Bird_ , and _Blue's Big Musical Movie_. "

Tony stared at the DVDs laid out before him, clearly moved by the thoughtful gifts.

"Abby, I..." Tony began to tear up, lips quivering into a smile. "Thank you!"

"Thank Tim, too. The movies are from both of us." Abby grinned, obviously pleased with Tony's reaction.

"Thanks, Tim!" Tony gave his friend a big smile, kicking his feet happily.

"You wanna go watch one of your movies now?" Gibbs asked, seeing how happy his boy was, and wishing for him to feel that happiness as long as possible.

"Yeah!" Tony exclaimed, clapping. "Will you watch with me?"

"Tony, I can't, sweetheart," Gibbs said apologetically. "Tim and Abby came over to help me pick out some baby things for you."

"Oh." Tony looked down dejectedly. "Okay..."

"I can watch with him", McGee offered. "I don't think it will take three of us to shop online."

"Please?" Tony whined, standing up and taking _Blue's Big Musical Movie_ off of the table with one hand, and reaching for McGee's hand with the other.

"Okay." Gibbs laughed, glad to see that McGee was still very much in big brother mode around Tony. "Have fun, you two."

"Call me if Abby starts going nuts buying baby things," McGee teased as, hand in hand, he and Tony made their way to the living room.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

"I missed you," Tony said from his place on the couch, watching McGee put the DVD in the player.

"I missed you too, buddy," McGee said, pressing the "close" button on the player, then going to take a seat beside Tony.

"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore," Tony pouted, holding his arms close to his body.

"Why would you think that?" McGee asked, reaching out an arm to give Tony a brotherly side hug.

"Because...because before I didn't remember. I was like new. But after I started to remember the bad things, you stopped coming over." Tony choked on these last words, turning to give McGee a wide eyed, teary look. A look of sadness and abandonment that left McGee feeling sick with guilt.

"No, Tony. That's not it at all," McGee insisted. "The team just got busy on a case. You remember how that is, right?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded, reaching for his firetruck blankie and crumpling it in his hands. "Tim?"

"Hmm?" McGee muted the TV, so that they wouldn't have to talk over the DVD's menu music.

"Do you think I deserve what happened to me?"

McGee could swear he felt his heart fall into his stomach at those words. Did Tony really think that McGee thought he deserved those months of endless physical and mental torture?

"Of course not, Tony," McGee insisted, placing his hands over Tony's balled up fists. "Why would you think I'd want something like that to happen to you?"

"I know I gave you a hard time before, but...I wasn't trying to be mean," Tony managed to say between sobs. "I was just teasing. Because I like you."

Tony looked up at McGee, green eyes so scared, vulnerable, and haunted with a guilt he didn't deserve to carry. It was absolutely heartbreaking.

"It's okay, Tony," McGee managed to say through the lump in his throat. "I know you were just teasing."

Tony blinked, tears falling down his cheeks as he breathed through shaky sobs. A reminder that, though he had come a long way in recent months, he still had a lot of pain left to work through.

"Tony." McGee reached out, gently squeezing the older man's arms. "Mark Ellsworth and Kyle Taylor are bad, bad people. And there is nothing you could have possibly done to deserve what they did to you. Understand?"

Tony nodded, though McGee wasn't entirely convinced he believed what he had just been told. "Bad people," he said, parroting McGee.

"That's right. And Tony? You're a good person. A good person, and a good friend. I'm just sorry that I didn't see it sooner."

Covering himself up with his blanket, Tony snuggled up to McGee, resting his head on the younger man's shoulder. He said nothing, simply letting his thumb drift into his mouth.

McGee smiled down at Tony, thinking of the trust Tony's body language communicated. Tony felt safe with McGee. And at that moment, McGee couldn't think of a greater honor.

"You've got so many people that love you, Tony," McGee whispered, carding his fingers through Tony's hair. "Jethro, Abby, Ducky, Jimmy...and me. And I promise, we won't let anyone hurt you again."


	31. Never the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a mini chapter. I had originally intended to make it part of the next chapter. But as I wrote, I began to think it works better on its own.  
> It's just a moment of quiet reflection for Gibbs. A little snapshot of the new life he is making with Tony. I hope you like it. :)

 

 

Gibbs looked down at his sleeping boy; calmly sucking on his pacifier, arms wrapped around his teddy bear. Dressed in a green onesie that said "daddy loves me" in yellow letters, red sweatpants and yellow socks, Tony had never looked cuter! Gibbs was even tempted to try out some of the outfits that Abby had selected for Tony. Outfits that Gibbs had dismissed as _too_ cute! But the longer Gibbs stared at his beautiful baby boy, the more he came to realize that, with Tony, there was no such thing as "too cute."

Gibbs picked up Tony's blanket - which the boy had kicked to a corner of his crib - tucking it snugly around him. Then, quiet as he could, he stepped back from the crib. Once at the door, Gibbs looked around, surveying Tony's nursery / bedroom with pride. It had come together nicely, he thought.

When Gibbs had first brought Tony home from the hospital, this room was simply a place for him to sleep. It was functional, but hardly personal. Gibbs had been so busy with his new responsibilities as Tony's caregiver, it never even occurred to him to try and make this room feel more like home to Tony.

But now that Gibbs was coming to understand Tony's needs and interests a little better, he wanted his boy to feel comfortable in his surroundings. And it seemed that Gibbs had managed to do just that.

If time allowed, Gibbs would have made Tony's large, adult sized crib by hand. But Tony required his full attention, so Gibbs had to order it online. It was well made, though. Sturdy, with sides that stayed up when Tony was in there, keeping him safe. But latches on one side made it easy for Gibbs to take the side down when it was time to get Tony in and out of the crib.

As a safety precaution, Tony slept in the crib at all times, whether big or little. Tony's regressions were unpredictable, and mentally, "baby Tony" was only 8 - 10 months old, with poor muscle control. While the crib wasn't high off the ground, and falling out of it probably wouldn't hurt Tony too badly, it would scare him. And Gibbs wanted Tony to feel completely safe in his new home.

So the crib was placed in the far left hand corner of the room, next to the window.

Under the window was a small cupboard, where diapers, wipes and rash cream were kept.

In the right hand corner of the room was a love seat, where Tony would snuggle on Gibbs' lap while his daddy read him stories.

Against the wall opposite Tony's crib was a bookshelf. The top shelves were filled with big Tony's favorite books. The bottom shelves held colorful children's storybooks, blocks, play rings, and a shape sorter for baby Tony. Next to that was a toy box, which held Tony's toy piano, rattles, stuffed animals, and a plastic caterpillar that played music.

In the corner next to the door was a dresser for Tony's clothes. On top of it was on old music box that had belonged to Kelly. Gibbs wound it up when it was time to put Tony to bed, letting its soft melody calm Tony into sleep.

The room was, admittedly, more little than big. But right now, so was Tony. The most important thing was that Tony loved this room. This place where new memories were being made. Tony's own little corner of this new home where, piece by piece, his new life was being built.

Gibbs couldn't help thinking that, because of Tony, they'd _both_ been given a chance at a new life! He knew that things weren't perfect now. Tony still had a lot of painful memories that he would need to eventually face. And Gibbs couldn't help the twinge of guilt that gnawed at his stomach when he thought of what Tony had become - however adorable he might be.

But Gibbs took comfort in every time Tony reached for him and said "daddy", and every squeal of delighted laughter as baby Tony played. And he was reassured by the moments of adult reflection that big Tony was occasionally capable of, voiced indirectly through music.

This was the love they had both been lacking. This was the family they had both been seeking. In one another, they had found healing.

Things would never be the same between them. But, thinking back on recent years, Gibbs knew he would never want them to be.


	32. Lucky

 

 

Sitting at the kitchen table, Gibbs took a swig of coffee, quietly scanning the newspaper. Setting the cup back down, he looked up to the sound of a key in the door.

Glancing down at his watch, Gibbs smiled. 9:32pm. Earlier than he'd expected his visitor to arrive, but he wasn't complaining. Now that Gibbs was a "stay - at - home - dad", he didn't think he could go back to keeping those insanely late hours he had as an NCIS Special Agent.

"Hey, Duck." Gibbs stood to greet his friend, just as the older man entered, carrying a grease stained paper bag.

"Hello, Jethro," Ducky smiled warmly, reaching with his free arm to give Gibbs a hug. "I thought you must be hungry, so I brought you a roast beef sandwich from that diner you like."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs took the bag from Ducky, leading him into the kitchen. "You want any of this?

"No, thank you. After the autopsy I just performed, I find I've lost my appetite."

"How about something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be lovely, thank you," Ducky said graciously, taking his coat off and setting it on the back of a chair before taking a seat.

"What? You don't trust me to make a cup of tea for you?" Gibbs teased, opening a cupboard and taking out a glass.

"Truthfully? No," Ducky laughed, taking Gibbs' sandwich out of the bag and setting it at his place at the table.

"Are you all right, Jethro?," he asked, his tone becoming serious as he studied Gibbs' face with concern." You've taken on a tremendous responsibility, and I fear you lack adequate support."

"I got it covered, Duck," Gibbs assured his friend, as he handed Ducky his glass of water and sat down to eat his sandwich. "Got a neighbor who brings us groceries, and two home health aides to help out with Tony. And we're both talking to a therapist. So there's nothing for you to worry about."

Feeling there was nothing more to say on the matter, Gibbs unwrapped his sandwich and bit into it.

"But I _do_ worry, Jethro!" Ducky insisted, appearing unconvinced. "It's wonderful that you have these resources, but the fact remains that you haven't had any sort of respite since becoming Tony's caregiver."

Swallowing down his food, Gibbs wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can't leave him, Duck. I'm all he's got."

"No! You're not!" Ducky said emphatically. "Now, I know you carry some guilt over what happened to Tony. We all do. But I need you to understand that, even though you and Tony have left NCIS, you are still a part of the team. _We_ are still family! And we wish to help, in any way we can."

"I appreciate that," Gibbs said with a sad smile. "But I wouldn't feel right leaving Tony, even if it was only for a few hours."

"I understand that, Jethro," Ducky said sympathetically. "Being apart from Tony is a step I don't think either of you is ready to take at this time. But I do believe there is a way to lift the weight of this responsibility off of you, just a bit."

"All right." Gibbs nodded in reluctant acceptance. "What do you suggest?"

"Bring Tony over to my place on Sunday. The entire team will be there, and they are very much looking forward to spending time with him."

Gibbs took a thoughtful sip of coffee, staring into his cup. "I'm not sure he's ready. He hasn't been out since - "

"Jethro! What happened to the man who would intentionally put his agents in uncomfortable situations, for the purpose of making them stronger? As I recall, you were hardest on Tony in that regard," Ducky reminded Gibbs.

Gibbs took a deep, controlled breath, scrubbing his hands over his face tiredly. "Yeah. But that was before...things were different then."

"I know that you wish to protect Tony," Ducky said, reaching out to give Gibbs' arm a gentle squeeze. "But you can't hide him away forever. Eventually, he is going to need to face the world. More importantly, he needs you to let him know he is allowed to be part of the world."

"Yeah. I know." Gibbs gave a resigned sigh, taking another bite from his sandwich.

"It is simply a change of scenery," Ducky reassured. "Tony will be surrounded by people who love him, and know how to care for him. I think it could be a good first step."

Gibbs nodded agreeably, swallowing down his food. "I guess it would do us both some good. I'll bring it up with Tony when he is big again."

Ducky's face lit up at those words. "Wonderful. Everyone will be most pleased when I tell them."

A comfortable silence followed; Gibbs eating his sandwich, while both men listened to the sound of Tony sucking on his pacifier through the baby monitor that sat on the table.

"May I look in on him?" Ducky asked, looking from the monitor to Gibbs.

"I don't see why not." Gibbs smiled, setting down his sandwich as he stood. "I'll come with you."

As they made their way to Tony's room, Gibbs didn't miss the knowing look that Ducky gave him. He supposed it was impossible to hide, just how deeply he loved Tony, and how that love had transformed him in the very best way.

Reaching Tony's door - which had been left ajar - Gibbs quietly pushed it open.

Ducky glanced around the nursery, nodding with approval before turning his attention to the boy in the crib.

Tony lie sleeping on his back, dressed in brown footie pajamas, with a hood that had floppy ears on it, making him look like an adorable puppy.

The pacifier in Tony's mouth called attention to his cheeks, which had started to plump up and grow rosy.

Arms splayed out at his sides, Tony's favorite teddy bear, "Jethro", rested on his right arm.

A red blanket , which Gibbs had tucked around Tony earlier, now pooled at his feet.

"He's precious," Ducky softly praised, smiling down at the sleeping baby. "It seems that Tony is thriving in your care. He is very lucky to have someone as loving and accepting of his condition as you are, Jethro."

"No." Gibbs shook his head, reaching down to lightly cup Tony's cheek. "I'm the lucky one."


	33. A Day At Ducky's

 

 

_"You all right, Tony?"_

Tony snapped to awareness, as if waking from a dream.

"Huh? Oh...uh...yeah," Tony answered, turning to the man in the driver's seat. "I just..."

Looking in front of him, Tony noticed the car was now stopped in front of Ducky's house; a sight that was at once welcoming and intimidating.

"What if..." Tony licked his lips nervously, feeling dizzy, and slightly ill at the familiar sight. "What if they all laugh at me?"

Feeling the gentle touch of a rough, calloused hand squeezing his own soft hand, Tony's gaze was drawn to Jethro's kind, blue eyes, and the comfort of his reassuring smile.

"No one's gonna laugh at you, Tony," Jethro promised. "They know what's goin' on with you. They've all seen it. And no one here is gonna judge you because of it."

Tony sighed, looking down into his lap. "I don't know why I'm so scared."

"It's okay to be scared. This is a new experience for you."

Tony shook his head. "It's not new. It's just my first time here since...since my head got all messed up."

"Hey." Jethro placed a couple of fingers under Tony's chin, gently coaxing him to look up. "You are not 'messed up.' You went through a terrible experience, and now you need to learn how to be a part of the world again."

"But I don't wanna be part of the world," Tony whined, looking up at Jethro with pleading green eyes. "I wanna stay home with you and be safe."

"I know, Tony," Jethro acknowledged, taking a firm yet gentle hold of Tony's hands. "But going out and being around other people will help you to move past what happened to you. The more you do it, the less afraid you'll be. You don't want to be afraid anymore, do you?"

Tony shook his head. "No. I...I just..."

"Baby boy."

Strangely calmed by the term of endearment, Tony took a breath, his eyes meeting Jethro's. Saying nothing, he simply waited to hear what the older man had to say.

"I packed a bag of clothes and supplies for you. If you need to be little, we'll be ready. And if things become too much for you, we can go home."

Tony sniffled. "I don't h-have to stay?"

"Of course not," Jethro said warmly. "I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't wanna do. But don't you think it will feel good to know you gave it a shot?"

Tony nodded reluctantly. "Uh...uh-huh."

Unbuckling first himself, then Tony, Jethro leaned over to give the younger man a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's head in."

Tony managed a small smile, forcing his fear and anxiety to the back of his mind. With Jethro near, he somehow felt less afraid.

The two men exited the car, and Jethro quickly made his way to Tony's side, offering his hand. Tony clasped it without hesitation, finding strength and comfort in the touch.

Exhaling, Tony looked at Jethro with a mix of gratitude and determination.

"Let's do this."

As they made their way to the house, Tony tried to remind himself that there was nothing to be afraid of; forcing himself to ignore the ache of sadness in his heart. A sadness he struggled to explain or understand.

Once they reached the door, Jethro turned to face Tony, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm proud of you,Tony. I really am," he said, a loving gleam in his eye.

Tony smiled, returning the squeeze as Jethro rang the doorbell with his other hand. He could do this. For Jethro, he would give it his very best.

The door opened, and Ducky stood, beaming at his his friends.

"Welcome." he greeted, capturing first Jethro, then Tony in a warm, welcoming hug; holding Tony just a little bit tighter. "I'm so glad you could come today."

Pulling back from the hug, Ducky gently gripped Tony' shoulders.

"How are you feeling, dear boy?"

"Ah...G-good. Thank you for i-inviting us," Tony stammered in reply.

"Think nothing of it," Ducky said casually, leading the way inside. "We're family, after all."

"Family," Tony repeated, his heart filling with warmth as he and Jethro followed Ducky inside. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

"The others will be here shortly," Ducky informed them. "But before they arrive, there's something I wish to show you."

Turning down the front hall, Ducky opened a door on the left, opposite the bathroom.

Entering, Tony noted a sparsely furnished room. It was simply a bed, a nightstand, and a small bookcase, only three shelves high.

But what really got Tony's attention were the items, which had clearly been selected just for him.

A large stuffed elephant sat staring at him from the bed.

A toy xylophone and purple rattle were placed on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. Large, soft rubber blocks were arranged a shelf above. Beside the blocks, a stack of large, colorful baby books.

"I hope it is to your liking," Ducky said, placing an arm around Tony. "I wanted to create a space you could retreat to if things became too much for you."

Tony just stood staring for a moment, wide eyed and speechless.

"Th-thank you," he finally stammered. "Thank you for doing this for me. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all." Ducky squeezed Tony closer to him. "This used to be mother's room. It's not like I've been doing anything with it recently."

"Well, I love it." Tony turned, giving Ducky a hug. He felt a lot more at ease with the knowledge that a safe space had been created for him.

The sound of the doorbell ringing startled Tony out of the hug, and he pulled back awkwardly. But Ducky wasn't ready to let him go just yet. His hands resting on Tony's shoulders, Ducky eyed him with love and concern.

"It sounds like our friends have arrived. Would you like to see them now? Or would you feel more comfortable staying in here for a few minutes?"

Tony looked over at Jethro, remembering what he had said about being a part of the world again. He wanted to make Jethro proud.

"I'll come out and see them," Tony decided, reaching for Jethro's hand.

Ducky smiled proudly at Tony, giving his right shoulder a light pat before turning and making his way to the door. Hand in hand, Tony and Jethro followed, exchanging loving glances along the way.

Tony clung to Jethro as Ducky opened the front door, letting in Jimmy, Tim and Abby, who had obviously come together. The chorus of enthusiastic greetings was too much for Tony, and he buried his face in Jethro's shoulder, waiting for it to pass.

"Hey." Tim called to Tony, once things had quieted. "You doing all right, buddy?"

"Too loud...It's too much," Tony said, looking up from Jethro's shoulder.

"We're sorry, Tony. We'll try and be more quiet for you," Tim promised. "We want to you be comfortable today."

Tony smiled, his breath coming out a nervous laugh.

"We even brought a nice, quiet activity for us to do together," Jimmy added, holding up a box.

Slowly walking towards Jimmy, Tony narrowed his eyes, examining the item in his friend's hand; a 100 piece jigsaw puzzle of puppies.

Tony shook his head. "I'm not smart. I can't -"

"What are you talking about, Tony?" Tim asked in disbelief. "You're one of the smartest people I know."

Tony looked at Tim suspiciously, not quite believing what he was hearing. "You think I'm smart? Mr. MIT thinks I'm smart?"

"Of course, Tony," Tim said softly, his tone leaving nothing to question. "I've always thought so. I should have told you a lot sooner."

"Come on, Tony," Abby encouraged, motioning her head toward the living room. "We'll do this together."

"O-okay," Tony agreed reluctantly, shuffling over to Tim and taking him by the hand.

"Atta boy." Abby grinned, clapping her hands together softly in delight, as Jimmy set the puzzle down on the coffee table.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

The afternoon passed comfortably, and Tony was surprised at how at ease he felt spending the day as "one of the grown ups." His friends had made a real effort to include him, and never once talked down to him.

Together, Tony, Tim, Abby and Jimmy completed the jigsaw puzzle. Tony felt his heart swell with pride and being able to do so much of it himself.

A diaper change mid afternoon was a good excuse to rest and retreat for awhile. After Tony was cleaned and changed, Jethro lay down with him in the bed, snuggling him close. It was a nice break from things. Because, while Tony was glad to be big sometimes, he still needed his "little time." Going too long without it caused him to feel anxious and scared. Having both big and little time helped him feel balanced.

Tony woke up from his nap feeling calm, rested and refreshed. He spent the next hour outside, admiring Ducky's garden with Tim and Jimmy, while Jethro, Ducky and Abby stayed inside preparing dinner.

After awhile, Tony heard familiar footsteps behind him. Turning around, his face lit up at the sight of Jethro, hurrying toward them.

"Dinner's ready," Jethro called breathlessly as he caught up with Tony and his friends in the garden. "You hungry, sweetheart?"

"Uh huh," Tony answered, taking hold of Jethro's hand and kissing the older man on the cheek.

Jethro smiled, returning the kiss with one to Tony's forehead.

Led by the delicious smells wafting out from the kitchen, the four men hurried back inside.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Tony looked on hungrily at the food spread out before him, as Jethro fastened Tony's bib around his neck. It looked delicious, and smelled even better! But for some reason, Tony was beginning to feel the sadness and anxiety from earlier that day returning. He tried to dismiss these feelings, telling himself that it was simply hunger making him anxious. He'd feel better once he had some food in his belly.

"Mmm...what's for dinner?" Jimmy asked, twisting the lid onto Tony's sippy cup and placing it in front of him.

"Chicken noodle casserole," Ducky announced, setting said casserole down on the table. "A simple, one dish meal, sure to please even the pickiest of palates.

"I think he's talking about you, Gibbs," Abby teased, playfully nudging Jethro with her elbow.

Jethro chuckled, shaking his head as he took a seat next to Tony. "Hey. I'm doing better. Now that I have someone other than myself to think about, I'm making an effort to eat healthier - and make sure Tony here does, too."

Tony gave Jethro an uneasy smile. But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't ignore the growing sadness in the pit of his stomach. A sadness that seemed to be turning into anger as the people he considered family joked with and teased each other.

"I also made a fresh garden salad, for those who choose to eat it," Ducky informed them, bringing over a large salad bowl.

"And...we've got ice cream for dessert!" Abby exclaimed, her announcement receiving soft claps and thumbs up from those around the table.

All except Tony, who sat watching joylessly as Jethro mashed up his casserole in a bowl for him. He had been having such a good day. Why was he so unhappy now?

Tony tried to focus on his food. Feeding himself was no easy task, after all. For some reason, it seemed the only time his hands didn't betray him was when he played piano. Otherwise, he was awkward and clumsy. Even doing the jigsaw puzzle earlier that day, Tony didn't fit the pieces into place. He told others where the pieces fit.

Now, the laughter that surrounded Tony felt mocking. The conversation - which he would have been able to easily follow in his previous existence - moved too fast, frustrating and confusing him. Making him feel sad and left out.

That's when Tony remembered.

He remembered trying and failing to mask his hurt as he learned he had been excluded. He remembered the satisfied smirks of those around him, taking pleasure in his pain. These same people who sat eating with him now. The ones who claimed to be his family.

They didn't care about Tony! Not really. They were probably secretly laughing at his struggles. Only taking care of him because they enjoyed having power over him.

"No!" Tony yelled, tugging at his bib. "Off!"

The conversation quieted, everyone turning concerned eyes to Tony.

"Tony? What's wrong?" Jethro asked, puzzled; reaching out a hand to comfort Tony.

Tony turned sharply away from Jethro. Finally managing to pull off his bib, he tossed it to the floor as he stood up from the table.

"Not invited!" Tony sobbed loudly, storming out of the dining room in tears.


	34. Regrets and Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're on Twitter, I'd love to connect. I always post there as soon as I update. And, of course, I post other fan girl fun as well. Won't you give me a follow? ;)
> 
> https://twitter.com/ThePeachyMonkey

 

 

Peering into the bedroom, McGee found Tony lying on the bed; thumb in his mouth, knees curled up to his chest. One arm clutched a stuffed elephant close to his body. Tony's face was glimmering with tears, and though his eyes were closed, McGee was sure he was awake.

"Tony? Can I come in?" McGee asked from the doorway.

Tony's eyes popped open, glaring at McGee as he shook his head no.

"Please? Just let me talk to you for a few minutes, and then you can go back to hating me."

Taking his thumb out of his mouth, Tony slowly sat up, crossing his legs in front of him. Both arms now held the elephant tightly, as if to shield himself from hurt.

"Don't hate you. Just sad," Tony mumbled into the stuffed animal.

"Tony..." McGee took a seat on the bed beside Tony, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I want to understand what's bothering you. But if I'm going to do that, you need to speak up. Okay?"

Tony nodded, setting the toy in his lap. "Where's Jethro?" he asked worriedly. "Is he mad at me?"

"No, he's not mad," McGee reassured Tony, patting his head affectionately. "I just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?"

Tony nodded. ''Nn'kay."

"You wanna tell me what happened out there? You seemed to be having such a good day. What got you so upset during dinner?"

"I remembered something," Tony answered, index finger tracing the elephant's eyes. "I hate remembering. Remembering makes me sad."

"What did you remember?" McGee asked. Based on the content and context of Tony's outburst, he was able to guess at it. But he knew that Tony needed to be the one to tell him.

Tony let out a few sniffles and sobs before finally answering.

"Ziva's d-dinner party. I wasn't i-invited. Everyone else was. But not me." Tony's voice came out small and choked with emotion. Like a child, struggling to understand the unfairness of the situation.

"Is that what this is about? Tony, that was a long time ago."

"Don't care," Tony pouted. "I was the only one not invited, and you all thought it was funny."

McGee sighed, suddenly filled with shame and regret at his behavior all those years ago.

"I know, Tony. We were jerks. I'm not going to make excuses, because the way we all acted was inexcusable. But I will say that I'm sorry. I'll say it every day for the rest of my life if I need to. Not just for the dinner party, but for everything. I'm sitting here with a friend who is hurting, and I hate to think I played a part in that."

"It's my fault," Tony said mournfully. "Because of how I acted...I made you think I was..."

Unable to say another word,Tony collapsed into McGee's lap, crying loudly. McGee knew that if he didn't calm Tony down, he'd soon have a baby in his lap. And while McGee knew that Tony needed the regression, he felt there was more that needed to be said. He needed to try and calm Tony down, if only for a few more minutes.

"Shh...It's okay, Tony. It's not your fault," McGee cooed, gently running his fingers through Tony's hair. "It's not your fault."

McGee repeated the statement for a few minutes, holding and comforting Tony until the boy quieted.

"You still with me?" McGee asked, leaning down to check Tony's eyes for signs of awarenessness.

Tony nodded, popping his thumb into his mouth.

"Tony, you didn't do anything to deserve the way we treated you. I acted on assumptions I'd made about you based on my own experiences. And that wasn't fair to you. I wanted to fit in so badly, that I think I felt some perverse glee at you being left out. "

Tony looked up at McGee, sucking his thumb more agressively at these words, the look of sadness and hurt almost too much to bear.

"I'm not proud of myself," McGee said, wiping away a tear from Tony's cheek. "I feel terrible that I played any part in making you feel sad or left out. And I promise it will never happen again."

Looking at Tony, McGee was struck by the grief and vulnerability in his eyes, and the overwhelming need he sensed from the boy to simply be love and comforted.

McGee wanted to provide that love and comfort to his friend. Yes, it was partly out of guilt. But, more than that, it was a feeling of genuine affection for someone he had dismissed and taken for granted for far too long. For all that McGee had presumed Tony to be, he now sensed that he had never truly known Tony.

But that was all changing now. Tony had been broken; unable to hide behind his masks and bravado any longer. And with the right amount of love and patience, McGee was hopeful he would eventually understand Tony in the way he deserved.

"Come on." McGee lightly tapped Tony on the arm, then motioned with his hands for Tony to sit up.

Tony slowly complied, and, once upright, let himself fall into McGee's arms, resting his head on McGee's shoulder.

McGee sighed contentedly as he lightly massaged Tony's head.

He loved the sweet boy in his arms. A boy so fragile and sensitive, yet so sweet and forgiving. And even if Tony hadn't entirely forgiven McGee, he at least loved McGee enough to give him a chance to prove himself.

"Tony, do you remember when Ziva came to see you in the hospital?"

Tony shook his head. "Ah uh."

"Well, she did. And before she said goodbye, she told you she was sorry. I think she felt really badly for hurting you and making you feel sad."

Tony looked up at McGee in disbelief.

"It's true," McGee laughed softly, smiling down at his friend. "All of us are sorry for the way we treated you. Even Ziva. None of us want you to ever feel hurt of exluded again."

"Really?" Tony asked softly.

"Really," McGee confirmed. "And you know what? This whole day - the puzzle, the walk in the garden, the dinner - all of it was planned for you."

Tony's expression quickly turned to one of puzzlement.

"W-why would you do that for me?" he asked.

"Because we care about you and want to spend time with you, Tony," McGee answered with loving warmth and sincerity.

Tony's face lit up at those words. Giggling, he nestled deeper into McGee's chest.

"I love you, Tim."

"I love you too, Tony," McGee said affectionately, kissing the top of Tony's head.

The two men snuggled in comfortable silence, and it wasn't long before Tony was sleeping soundly in McGee's arms.


	35. The Value Of Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. I was going to include more. But I feel that this works better as a self contained moment. I think adding anything else would dilute the impact of the thoughts and emotions expressed here.
> 
> Also, real life has not been kind to me lately. So I haven't had as much time or energy to write as I would have liked.
> 
> But don't worry. The next chapter will be longer, and have some very sweet interactions. I promise. :)

 

 

The mood was solemn after Tony's outburst. Dinner was put into leftover containers without a word, no one wishing to eat without Tony there to enjoy it. It was an unspoken agreement that no one wished to continue with the evening's plans without Tony present.

So now they sat, gathered around the kitchen table; a heavy silence hanging between them. For awhile, they said nothing. Gibbs sat lost in thought, drinking his coffee; Ducky doing the same with his tea. Abby sat with body slumped and arms folded, listening to music on her iPod. Jimmy anxiously bounced his leg up and down, his expression sad and thoughtful. All were content to simply sit and reflect on their own guilt and regret.

"You know, Tony is probably one of the nicest people I know." Abby finally broke the silence after several long minutes, taking her ear buds out and setting them down on the table.

Pulled from their thoughts as if waking suddenly from a trance, all eyes turned to the goth.

"And he was always there for us," Abby continued, once she saw she had everyone's attention. "No matter how mean we were to him, or how little we appreciated him, he..." Abby's voice trailed off, the last syllable cracking into a sob.

"I never thanked him," Gibbs said mournfully. "I never thanked Tony for leading the team when I ran off to Mexico, because I didn't have the balls to deal with my own shit. I never thanked him for saving me from drowning...or for saving Maddie..." Gibbs took a deep breath in and out through his nose, placing his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. He could sense their surprise at him being so openly emotional. But he wasn't embarrassed or self conscious about it. He needed to put his regret on display. Tony deserved that much.

"All these years, after everything he's done for me...and for the team...he never knew how much it meant to me."

With a sympathetic smile, Ducky reached across the table, giving his friend's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I fear we all took Tony for granted in the years leading up to his kidnapping. And at times we were unnecessarily cruel. I think every one of us carries guilt over this. Unfortunately, the past can't be changed. But Jethro?"

Gibbs looked up at his friend, feeling a tear run down his cheek as he did so.

"Think of all you're doing for Tony now. The care you're providing him with is not motivated by guilt. It is motivated by love. Unconditional love, unlimited patience and complete devotion. This is what Tony needs now, and you're giving it willingly."

Ducky exchanged glances with Jimmy and Abby before turning his gaze back to Gibbs. "Just remember that you're not alone in this. We _all_ want to help. In any way we can."

Jimmy nodded in agreement. "We want to be there for Tony, like he was always there for us. He's...well, you're _both_ our family."

"And we love you," Abby added tearfully.

 _"Family,"_ Gibbs thought. He had to smile at the word. For years, he had applied it to the team. And in some way, they had all believed it to be true.

But Tony had been the only one who had ever truly taken this sentiment to heart. Going above and beyond for the people he cared about. Putting the team before himself. "Family" wasn't simply a word Tony tossed around to make himself feel better. Unlike the rest of the team, the word actually meant something to him.

It was only fitting that Tony was the one who had finally made them a true family.


	36. Just Love Him

 

 

"Does Tony think we hate him?" Abby asked worriedly. "I know we haven't been over much. But we get so busy with cases and - "

"Abs." Gibbs put a calming hand on her shoulder. "I think a part of Tony understands. When he's big, he remembers what it was like to work cases, and he knows the demands that puts on your time. He might not like it, but he understands. And when he's regressed, I thinks he's just happy to have someone to play with."

"It's not just that," Abby sighed guiltily. "This whole...regression thing...I just don't know how to act around Tony anymore. After you guys rescued him, I guess he was regressed then too. I see that now. And it was weird at first, seeing Tony act like a baby. But I got used to it. I figured it was just his reaction to what happened to him, and he'd eventually go back to being...I don't know. Some kind of normal. But now we've got this business of Big Tony, Baby Tony, Child Tony...How can I help him when I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to be treating him? It's so confusing."

"It  _is_  confusing," Jimmy agreed. "Even when Tony is 'big', he acts really young. Not like most adults I know. Not like the Tony we knew."

Ducky glanced over at Jimmy and Abby in acknowledgement, then turned to Gibbs, giving him a half smile. "But we  _want_  to understand him. We really do want to help. Are there any insights you can offer that might help us in our interactions with Tony?"

Gibbs looked thoughtful for a minute, staring down at the table. When it came to Tony, there was a lot he was still figuring out. But there was one common trait that Tony exhibited whether big or little. The one thing that Gibbs now saw he had needed all along.

"Just love him," Gibbs finally said, looking at Ducky, Jimmy and Abby in turn. "Reassure him. Tony is real clingy, and always needs someone close to him. He needs to feel safe."

"That makes sense, after what happened to him," Jimmy nodded solemnly.

"It's more than that," Gibbs sighed. "We let him down.  _I_  let him down more than anyone. And I know that just because Tony loves me and feels safe with me, doesn't mean he trusts me not to run off."

Gibbs blinked back the unshed tears that were welling up behind his eyelids. "I think he expects me to leave. Thinks I could go at any time."

"And you think he'll be the same way with us?" Abby asked, unable to contain her own tears, a streak of mascara traveling down her cheek.

"Yeah." Gibbs half nodded. "Probably won't be as bad. But he'll get get attached to you, and then be scared you'll leave him."

"Even when he's big?" Abby asked, clearly trying to make sense of Tony's mental and emotional complexities.

Gibbs swiped a hand across his eyes, catching tears before they had a chance to fall. "Not really much of a difference. Big Tony is a little more independent. You can have a decent conversation with him, and he understands more. But, big or little, his basic needs are the same."

"Hmm."Ducky hummed thoughtfully. "Of course, Baby Tony's needs are a bit more specialized."

"Yeah." Gibbs smiled, eyes gleaming fondly at the thought of his sweet baby boy. "And you know what? Tony seems happiest when he's fully regressed like that."

"That's why you're so accepting of it," Ducky guessed.

"I want Tony to be happy. That's all that matters," Gibbs replied with a half shrug, looking up to see his friend's eyes shining with love. And it struck him once again how the past year had transformed them all for the better. He only wished this transformation hadn't come at so high a price.

Approaching voices pulled Gibbs out of his musings; Tony's, soft and bashful, and McGee's, calm and reassuring. Gibbs' heart filled with warmth at the loving bond shared between the two men. McGee had really proven to be an ideal "big brother" to Tony. A calming, steadying presence in a world Tony still feared.

Entering the room wearing a red onsie, blue sweatpants and red socks, Tony clung tightly to McGee's side. Resting his head on his friend's shoulder, Tony looked up with wide eyes as he drooled around the thumb in his mouth.

Observing the scene before him, Gibbs knew he was looking at Toddler Tony. Mentally, only 2-3 years old. Seeing the way Tony held on to McGee, and that the (physically) younger man had obviously changed Tony's diaper and clothes, Gibbs marvelled at the trust the boy felt for his friend. McGee was probably the only person other than Gibbs who Tony trusted completely. Making a mental note to thank McGee for making the time and effort to comfort and care for Tony, Gibbs walked up to the two men, lightly rubbing Tony's arm.

"Hey, sweetheart," he whispered. "Feeling any better?"

Tony nodded, taking his thumb out of his mouth and reaching out his arms as he fell into Gibbs' welcoming embrace.

"Mad at me?" Tony asked softly, voice tinged with uncertainty and fear.

"Of course not,"Gibbs reassured Tony, hugging him a little tighter. "We just worry about you when you're sad or upset."

"So-wee," Tony mumbled into Gibbs' chest.

"Hey." Gently pulling away from the hug, Gibbs locked eyes with Tony, lightly brushing a tear off of his cheek. "Nothing to be sorry about. I just want you to remember that we all love you very much. And it's okay to be sad. Everyone gets sad sometimes. But we're going to do everything we can to keep a smile on your face."

At these words, Tony blinked, mouth turning up into a faint smile.

"That's what I like to see," Gibbs said with a grin, ruffling Tony's hair a little before leading him to his seat at the table, then sitting down beside him.

"Are you hungry, dear boy?" Ducky asked, watching Gibbs wipe a bit of drool off of Tony's chin. "We haven't eaten yet. We were waiting for our guest of honor."

Tony's eyes lit up, obviously feeling very loved and special at all of the fuss being made over him. "Ice keem!"

"Not yet," Ducky laughed affectionately. "You can have ice cream  _after_  dinner."

"Oh, come on!" Abby objected, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Can't Tony have dessert before dinner just this once? It  _is_  his special day, after all."

Ducky laughed, looking to Gibbs. "Well, that's really up to you, Jethro. What you do say to switching dinner and dessert, just for today?"

Tony fixed pleading green eyes on Gibbs, and he was just too adorable to say no to.

"Ah...I don't see why not," Gibbs grinned, winking at Tony. "Just this once."

"Yay!" Tony cheered, clapping clumsily.

His happiness was infectious. Soon the room was filled with joy, laughter, and feelings of belonging.

And as Tony's laughter echoed through the room, Gibbs thought there was no sweeter sound in the world.


	37. Take Care Of Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Bonnie, as you may recall, is a home health aide that was introduced in chapter 21.
> 
> * It may be a few weeks before I’m able to update this story. I’ll be going on a long overdue vacation next week! But there are some big developments coming up! So rest assured, I will be updating as soon as I possibly can!

 

 

_Setting the baby monitor on the workbench, Gibbs sat down, reaching for a block of wood. Wood work was something he would always enjoy, and while caring for Tony left little time for such hobbies, he knew how important it was for him to keep interests of his own. Things that defined Gibbs outside of his role as a caregiver. Never mind that Gibbs was spending this time making something for Tony. He was doing it in his own time, by choice, with love._

_Picking up a whittling knife, Gibbs was about to get to work when he heard rustling and bumping sounds over the monitor._

_Letting the items fall from his hands, he sat, frozen in terror, as the sound of Tony's rhythmic breathing changed first to a startled gasp, then fearful whimpers._

_"Quiet, Junior," DiNozzo Senior's voice hissed over the monitor._

_Gibbs shot up off of his stool, dashing towards the stairs as Tony's sobs echoed at him from both the baby monitor and his bedroom on the main level; a dizzying assault of worry and guilt gripping his senses._

_But the air felt thicker as Gibbs stepped through the doorway at the top of the stairs, as if he were walking through mud._

_Tony's terrified cries screamed at the urgency of the situation, and Gibbs knew there was no time to waste. He had to get to his boy! But the more panicked he became, the slower his progress._

_Struggling another step forward, the thickness in the air dissipated; Gibbs' body stumbling forward to the floor in response to the change._

_Shaking off the shock of the fall, Gibbs stood just in time to hear a car engine start up outside._

_Making a mad dash for the door, Gibbs looked on helplessly as a dark luxury sedan pulled out of the driveway. Staring out the back window at him, a teary eyed Tony pressed a hand to the glass. And though Gibbs couldn't hear him, he could clearly see the boy mouth "da…da…"_

Gibbs gasped, clentching at his chest as he awoke suddenly from the nightmare.

Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his head, contemplating his worst fear. He had not yet contacted Tony's father, and had no plans to do so.

As for Senior, he had remained suspiciously quiet since his sudden appearance just after Tony was brought home from the hospital almost a year ago. While Gibbs had no desire for any contact with the man, his absence made Gibbs uneasy. He couldn't see Senior simply giving up on the chance to claim guardianship of Tony – and his sizable trust fund. While Senior had no legal grounds to do so – especially considering the 20 year estrangement between father and son - and any court would certainly laugh in his his face, Gibbs knew that wouldn't stop him from trying.

It terrified him to think what would happen if the elder DiNozzo came in contact with his son for even a second. Tony had made so much progress since Senior's traumatizing surprise visit to the hospital those many months before. Gibbs feared another encounter might put Tony right back where he started.

Gibbs stood up and shuffled to the door, checking to make sure it was locked and the security system on. He hadn't taken such precautions in years. But now, once again, he had someone in his life that he loved, and would do anything to protect.

Turning down the front hall to check on Tony, the sound of raspy coughs filled Gibbs with fresh worry. There was a hint of whimpering behind each cough, and weak sobs between served as punctuation. It was clear the boy was in pain.

"Tony," Gibbs called softly, pushing the bedroom door all the way open.

Tony's whimpers turned to needy whines, and his coughing more forceful as a result. And as Gibbs approached the crib and looked down at Tony, he saw his boy lying lifelessly on his back; looking up at his daddy with big, watery eyes.

"How are you feeling, baby boy?"

Tony coughed again, his breathing thick with the sound of mucous being inhaled and exhaled. Snot, which came out of his nose in a bubble, covered his face.

This was no good, Gibbs decided. Tony would need to sit up if he was going to breathe properly. And since Tony was clearly a baby now, Gibbs would need to help him with that.

Gibbs took a moment to unlatch the side of the crib and let it slide down. Then he crouched down on the floor, reaching his arms out to Tony.

"Come on, baby boy. Up," Gibbs coaxed.

Tony reached up his arms in reply, sitting up with only partial assistance from Gibbs.

Gibbs pulled Tony in close, and the boy butt-slid off of the mattress and into his daddy's lap.

Gibbs couldn't help but to laugh in surprise, and Tony giggled in response between coughs and sniffles, nuzzling into his daddy's chest.

"You're gonna be okay, Tony," Gibbs cooed, kissing the top of Tony's head and not minding one bit that his boy was smearing snot all over his shirt. "Daddy is gonna make you all better."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs snuggled with Tony in the love seat, looking on as Ducky checked the boy over. Tony was a good sport throughout, sitting still when Ducky put the thermometer in his ear, and adorably trying to grab the stethoscope from Ducky's hands. Ducky did let Tony see it after he was done using it, allowing him to listen to his own heartbeat. If Tony's wide eyed gasp was anything to go by, at that moment, he thought it was just about the greatest thing ever.

Tony cried a little when Ducky put the bulb in his nose to suction out snot. But hugs, kisses, praise and reassurance that Tony did a good job seemed enough to calm him. And the red rattle Ducky gifted Tony with after the exam even managed to bring a small smile to his face. Tony accepted it happily, shaking the toy in his clumsy hand, made weaker with illness.

"He gonna be okay, Duck?" Gibbs asked, watching Tony hit the rattle against the arm of the love seat.

"Oh, yes. It's just a cold," Ducky replied calmly, holding up a hand to stop Gibbs from asking the next obvious question. "Yes, I have taken Tony's medical history into account, and I saw nothing particularly worrisome in my examination of him. I am confident you should see signs of improvement in a few days. In the meantime, see to it he stays hydrated. And use the bulb when necessary. I know that Tony hates it, but he's incapable of blowing his nose when he's like this."

"He might come out of his regression," Gibbs offered.

"I seriously doubt it." Ducky shook his head, letting Tony's hand latch onto his index finger. "Tony's regressions stem from a need to be taken care of. And doesn't everyone feel that need a little when they are ill? For someone like Tony, who slips into regressions frequently as it is, this need is even greater. I suspect this regression will last until the illness passes."

Gibbs nodded, a smile ghosting his lips as he kissed Tony on the cheek. "I guess I can live with that."

Ducky smiled knowingly. "No need to mask your feelings in sarcasm, Jethro. I know that you're worried about Tony. But I also know that you love taking care of him – possibly as much as he loves being taken care of."

At those words, Gibbs just laughed. "Ya got me."

Tony coughed miserably, turning and burying his face in Gibbs' shoulder.

"Thanks for stopping by, Duck," Gibbs smiled appreciatively, rubbing Tony's back in an effort to comfort him.

"Anything to put your mind at ease," Ducky said warmly. "Enjoy a restful day with your sweet boy. I'll call to check on you both later."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Tony lie on the cot placed at the wall opposite his crib, which Gibbs had decided to use as a makeshift changing table. Still wrapped in towels from his bath, Tony giggled as Gibbs swiped under his chin and on his neck, drying him off.

As Gibbs looked down, his gaze meeting Tony's adoring green eyes, he silently thanked Tony for once again giving his life purpose. Gibbs had given himself permission to love again, and his heart had never felt so full.

"Hey."

Gibbs turned to see Bonnie set Tony's bottle on the dresser. "You need anything before I go?"

"Nah. We're good, thanks. Go on home and get some rest."

Bonnie nodded, turning to go, when they heard the sound of keys in the door.

"I'll see who that is," Bonnie said with an amused huff. "You get that boy covered."

Gibbs chuckled as Bonnie walked out. Gently turning Tony onto his side, he quickly grabbed the diaper he had set aside and slid it under Tony, then rolled his boy onto his back once again.

He had just fastened the tabs on Tony's diaper when McGee and Abby entered; McGee with a black book bag draped over his right shoulder.

" 'im! Beebee!" Tony greeted happily, looking up at his friends, then promptly coughing from the effort.

"Come on, baby boy. Up you go," Gibbs coaxed, helping Tony to sit up.

"I'm sorry," Abby said uncomfortably, looking at Tony's diapered form. "This is a bad time."

"Not at all," Gibbs smiled, in an effort to put Abby at ease. "We're glad you're here."

Abby simply gave a small nod, shuffling her feet.

"Um…I can help out with Tony," McGee offered, thinking fast. "Why don't you go show Abby your new…coffee maker?"

Gibbs chuckled, thankful for the helpful young man's ability to read people. Gibbs had no new coffee maker, and McGee knew it. He was simply giving Gibbs an excuse to talk to Abby; something the woman clearly needed.

"Daddy will be right back, okay baby boy?" Gibbs informed Tony. "Right now, uncle Tim is gonna take care of you."

Tony hummed, smiling at his daddy.

"That's my good boy." Gibbs smiled back at Tony, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Then, standing up, he grabbed Tony's yellow footie pajamas, which were draped over the crib, and handed them to McGee.

"Just get Tony in his pajamas and started on his bottle. " Gibbs motioned with his head towards the bottle on the dresser.

"You got it," McGee nodded, walking over to Tony as Gibbs left the room with Abby.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" Gibbs asked, as he and Abby took a seat on the couch.

Abby frowned, snapping the bracelet on her wrist thoughtfully for a minute before finally answering.

"You know that I love Tony, right? And I have no problem with him being the way he is."

"I know," Gibbs acknowledged.

"But when I see him like he was just now…it reminds me how helpless he is. And I worry I can't be there for him like I should be. You and McGee are so good at taking care of him and –"

"Abby," Gibbs cut her off, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There are a lot of ways you can help take care of Tony. It's not all diaper changes and bath time. You could feed him, or play with him. Read him a story. Watch a movie with him. Tony will be happy with any time and attention you can give him. He's your friend, and he loves you. He's happy just to have you here."

Abby smiled tearfully at Gibbs. "Thanks. You always know what to say."

"I do what I can," Gibbs laughed. "Now tell me, what brings the two of you here at this time of night? Figured you'd still be at work."

"We were. But McGee and I were going through this suspect's hard drive, and it was super skeezy! Lots of disturbing stuff on there! So we decided we needed to get away for a little bit. Take some Tony time."

" 'Tony time.' I like that," Gibbs chuckled. "All right." Gibbs stood, patting Abby on the knee as he did so. "Go take some Tony time."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs and Abby reentered the nursery to find Tony cradled in McGee's arms, suckling on his bottle.

"Aww," Abby cooed softly. "You're so good with him, McGee."

Tony turned his head slightly at the sound of Abby's voice, unlatching from the bottle as he gave her a playful smile.

McGee sighed. "Come on, Tony. You've only got a little bit left."

Turning his attention back to McGee, Tony obediently latched back on, and it wasn't long before he'd finished the bottle.

"Bup!" Tony exclaimed, sitting up and resting his head on McGee's shoulder. "Bup!"

"He wants you to burp him, Gibbs explained, taking the empty bottle from McGee's hand.

"Oh…okay." McGee nodded slowly in understanding, lightly rubbing Tony's back until a few burps escaped.

"There. Feel better?" McGee asked, giving Tony a couple of gentle pats on the back.

Tony coughed, content to let his head rest on McGee's shoulder.

"Yeah. I heard you weren't feeling so good," McGee said sympathetically. "Maybe it would be best if you get some sleep now, baby boy."

Tony sat up slowly, fixing groggy eyes on McGee. "Pyay," he pouted.

"I don't think you're up for playing right now," McGee laughed. "But maybe I could read you a bedtime story instead. How would you like that?"

"Ory!" Tony grinned, clapping clumsily.

"All right. Hang on a sec," McGee laughed, gently removing Tony from his lap and standing to get the book bag he'd come in with.

"Um…McGee? Would it be okay if I read to Tony?" Abby asked, her voice softer, less confident and more tentative than anyone in the room was used to hearing.

"Sure," McGee answered agreeably, crouching down and reaching into the book bag, which he had left propped up against Tony's crib. "Tony, would you like Abby to read you a story?"

Tony smiled, rocking from side to side on the love seat. "Beebee!"

A teary eyed Abby looked almost relieved as she smiled down at Tony and took a seat next to him.

As Tony snuggled up next to Abby, Gibbs grabbed a pacifier off of the dresser and popped it into Tony's mouth, knowing the boy's tendency to suck his thumb. He then grabbed a blanket from out of the crib and placed it over Tony, tucking it snugly around him.

Tony kicked his feet in excitement as he saw McGee come over and hand Abby the book. Sitting up and peering over Abby's shoulder with interest, he looked down at the book in her hands.

"Impatient fella, ain't ya?" Abby teased, bopping Tony playfully on the nose.

Smiling around the pacifier, Tony settled back down, once again snuggling close to Abby.

"That's a good boy," Abby cooed, kissing the top of Tony's head and opening the book. "This is one of my favorite stories. It's called  _the Hobbit_."


	38. What's In A Name?

 

 

Tony sighed contentedly, waking to the feel of Jethro's fingers gently working their way through his hair.

Humming, he smiled at the touch. Jethro was the best! Even when Tony was Big – as he was at this moment – if he had a bad dream and felt scared, Jethro would always let him come out and snuggle. Somehow, Jethro had a way of chasing Tony's nightmares away, and calming the chaos in his mind and heart.

Shifting in Jethro's lap, Tony rested a hand against the older man's chest.

"Hey," Tony whispered, voice raspy with sleep, staring up, bleary eyed, at Jethro.

"Hello, sweetheart," Jethro cooed, lightly brushing Tony's cheek. "We've got a visitor."

Following Jethro's gaze, Tony tilted his head back to glance at their guest, and his face suddenly brightened. "Tim!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "What are you doing here so late?"

Standing up from the easy chair, Tim made his way over to the couch and took a seat beside Tony. "Just checking in to see how you're feeling," he answered, giving his best friend a pat on the knee. "Last time I saw you, you were pretty sick."

"I feel mostly better. But sometimes I have coughing," Tony said, grabbing the edge of his blankie and bunching it in his fists.

"Well, when that cough clears up…" Tim exchanged a meaningful look with Jethro. "I was hoping I could take you out for ice cream."

"Take me out…" Tony blinked, as his heart suddenly seemed to plummet into the pit of his stomach; his emotions now a confused bundle of love, gratitude and fear.

"Yeah. This new place opened, not far from my apartment. They make their own ice cream, and top it with homemade syrups. I remembered how happy you were eating ice cream at Ducky's, and thought you might like to try it out with me."

"I…I like ice cream, but…" Tony pulled the blankie up to his neck, burying his face in his balled up fists.

"Tony?" Tim's concerned voice called to him. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Tony slowly peered up at Tim, feeling a little ashamed of himself, and wishing he could better control his fears.

"I'm scared to be…scared….scared to go out aaa-and see people," Tony confessed between strained breaths and hiccups. "What if people laugh at me. I know I'm n-not normal. Even when I try and be Big, I'm not right in my brain."

It was then that Tony felt the familiar comfort of Jethro's arm wrapping around him and scooping him up into his lap. Resting his head against Jethro's chest, Tony took comfort in the other man's heartbeat, and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

They stayed like this for several minutes; Tony held in Jethro's lap, peering up from the blanket at Tim's reassuring eyes. Slowly, Tony felt himself begin to calm.

"Baby boy," Jethro whispered, kissing the top of Tony's head. "You can't go through life being afraid people are gonna laugh at you."

"But I can't even eat without making a mess. Even when I'm Big," Tony whined pitifully. "And what if I regress while we're out? I don't think –"

"Tony." Tim cut Tony off, dabbing at his tears with a tissue he'd gotten from a box on the end table. "I'll be with you the whole time. You don't need to be scared."

Tony sniffled, blinking up at his friend. "You're not embarrassed by me?"

"Of course I'm not," Tim promised, bringing himself in to hug Tony. "You are who you are. And I love who you are."

Tony hummed happily, held in the arms of his two favorite people in the world. Somehow, despite his fears, he knew they would never let anything bad happen to him.

Trying to push back the doubts in his mind, Tony reminded himself that he would be safe.

"Okay." Tony nodded slowly. "I'll go. Thank you for inviting me."

"Sure thing," Tim said softly, smiling at his friend. Giving Tony one last squeeze before letting go of the hug, he then stood, grabbing his jacket off of the easy chair.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Tony."

"Okay," Tony chirped happily, snuggling deeper into Jethro's hold.

"Thanks for stopping by, McGee," Jethro said, nodding his appreciation.

"My pleasure. Goodnight, Gibbs."

"No!" Tony suddenly protested, startled at his own outburst. And as Jethro and Tim turned surprised eyes to him, he worried he might have angered them.

But there was something in their interactions that had always made Tony uncomfortable. Ever since his memories started to return. For a long time, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. In fact, it was only at this moment that Tony realized what had been bothering him.

"What's wrong,Tony?" Jethro asked, pulling back from their embrace to stare into Tony's watery green eyes.

"It's stupid," Tony mumbled, shaking his head.

"Hey." Jethro tapped Tony under the chin, causing the younger man to look up and meet his gaze. "If it's important to you, it's not stupid."

"Yeah," Tim agreed, taking a seat in the easy chair. "What's going on?"

Tony looked down again, rubbing his blanketed fists together. "When we…I remember when we worked together, we did the last name thing. You called me 'DiNozzo', and I called you 'Gibbs' and 'McGee.' But you're 'Jethro' – or 'Daddy' – and 'Tim' to me now. I'm not gonna call you by your last names anymore, and I don't like when you do it, either. It makes me think of before, and that makes me sad."

The room went quiet for a minute, and with each silent second, Tony's anxiety grew. Had he spoken out of turn? Did he really have any right to dictate their speech anyway? But then, he hadn't really  _ordered_  them to change the way they addressed each other. He simply said how it made him feel. That was okay. Right?

"Well, we don't work together anymore. Guess we don't need to be so formal," Jethro finally said, immediately putting Tony's mind at ease."

"That's true," Tim nodded thoughtfully. "We're closer than that now."

"Yeah! We're a family!" Tony exclaimed, relieved at their reactions. Feeling very little, and very loved.

"We sure are, Tony,"Gibbs chuckled, once again kissing the top of Tony's head. "Thank you for helping us realize this."


	39. Sweet and Sour

 

 

Pulling up to a shop tucked away in the corner of a shopping center, Tim stared up at the purple sign with bright pink lettering that read "Sweet Scoops."

"Well, here we are," Tim declared, turning to Tony, who sat staring out the window of the passenger seat; sucking his thumb and rocking his body back and forth as if to comfort himself.

"Tony?" Tim called to his friend, reaching out and giving the (physically) older man's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Tony's body stilled at the touch, and he turned to face Tim with watery green eyes.

"Wha?" he asked around the thumb in his mouth.

"You're gonna be okay. This is a small place, and shouldn't be too overwhelming for you."

Tony blinked owlishly at Tim, slowly letting the thumb slip from his mouth. "Do you think anyone will notice I'm…a stupid man-baby?"

Tim sighed sadly, taking hold of Tony's hand, which was still slightly moist with saliva. "Tony, you are a sweet, loving person who makes his friends smile. That's what anyone that matters is going to see. I wish you didn't feel so ashamed of who you are that you think you need to hide from people."

"But –"

"Please, Tony. Just try and enjoy yourself today. I promise to keep you safe."

Looking up to meet Tim's gaze, Tony gave a small nod. "Okay", he said with a wavering smile. Eyes communicating an absolute trust in his friend, in spite of his fear and reluctance.

Returning the smile, Tim gave Tony's hand a light squeeze. "I'm proud of you, buddy," he said, opening the driver's side door.

Getting out of the car, Tim then reached into the back seat, grabbing a backpack containing Tony's pull ups – which he now wore when he was Big – and bib.

Closing the door, Tim then walked around to the passenger side, opening Tony's door and reaching a hand out to help him up.

Taking the offered hand, Tony looked up at Tim tentatively.

"Gonna have fun today?" he asked, with a sweet innocence that made Tim wonder just how Big Tony was at that moment.

"Absolutely," Tim promised, guiding Tony as he stood. "Come on," he coaxed, patting Tony on the back. "Lets get some ice cream in your tummy."

As they stepped up onto the sidewalk and approached the entrance, Tim felt Tony's hand reach for him, seeking comfort and reassurance. Interlacing their fingers and giving Tony's hand a loving squeeze, Tim looked over fondly as Tony visibly calmed at the touch. Tim felt honored, and a bit overwhelmed, at the amount of trust the emotionally fractured man put in him.

Entering Sweet Scoops, Tim only a step in front of Tony, the two just stood their for a minute as Tony scanned the place with a look of both fear and awe.

It was, as Tim had said, a small place. Along the right hand wall was a counter, which held a small selection of ice cream flavors on display behind glass. On the wall behind the counter was a menu, listing not only said flavors, but also different types of sundaes and ice cream soda.

There were only five tables in this space; three larger in size and circular, able to seat 5 to 6 people, and two small tables for two. To the back, a small hallway led to one unisex restroom.

Apart from Tim and Tony, the only other customers were a young couple in their 20s, and a mother with her two daughers, who looked to be between the ages of 5 and 8. If Tim and Tony sat at the small table near the restroom, they could probably enjoy their ice cream unnoticed.

"Can I help you?" the young woman behind the counter called out cheerily.

"Yeah. Just give us a minute," Tim nodded politely, leading Tony over to the counter.

"Just call for me when you're ready," the woman – whose name tag read "Jamie" said with a smile, leaving the men to make their selection.

"See anything you like?" Tim asked, rubbing Tony's back as he looked over the selection, eyes sparkling with a child like glee.

Tim blinked back tears, heart overflowing with love at the sight. He wondered if Tony realized he had Tim wrapped around his finger. He would do anything to keep a smile on that sweet face.

"Can I get chocolate chocolate chip ice cream?" Tony asked, looking up at Tim hopefully. "With whip cream and strawberry syrup?"

"You can get anything you want, buddy," Tim replied with a soft laugh. "How many scoops do you want?"

"Hmm…"Tony thought for a minute, finger to his lips as he looked to the ceiling. "Two!" he finally decided. "Is that okay?"

"It sure is," Tim laughed, giving Tony's back a reassuring pat. "Excuse me!" he then called to Jamie, who was restocking napkins. "We're ready to order now."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Tim looked on proudly as Tony spooned some ice cream into his mouth. It didn't matter that just as much ice cream ended up on Tony's face and bib as in his mouth. Tony was out, learning to be part of the world again. He had taken yet another big step towards reclaiming his life, after the nightmare of his captivity.

"I started playing guitar again," Tony announced, setting down his spoon.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that!" Tim exclaimed, reaching over to give Tony an encouraging pat on the arm.

"Yeah. My fingers hurt when I play now. But if I keep practicing, maybe I'll get shells on them like I had before."

Taking a bite of his butter pecan, Tim gave Tony a puzzled look for a minute before realizing what he was trying to say.

"You mean callouses?"

"Yeah. Callouses." Tony's face reddened, and he looked down, sliding his hands between his knees as if to comfort himself. "I'm so stupid sometimes. I get my words all messed up in my head and say wrong things."

"No. Tony, you're not stupid at all," Tim reassured Tony. "I knew what you meant. Besides, callouses are kind of like protective shells for your fingers. That's a very creative way to think of it, and I think only someone who is really smart could do that."

"Really?" Tony asked, looking up at Tim hopefully.

"Really," Tim nodded with certainty.

Tony smiled, laughing nervously as he wiggled around in his seat a little. "Tim?" he asked, looking up with a wide eyed innocence.

"What is it, buddy?"

"Why is it easier for me to use my hands when I play music, but harder when I do other things?" Tony asked, waving around his spoon clumsily. "They're the same hands."

"Hmm…I'm not sure," Tim replied thoughtfully, stirring his ice cream. "How do you feel when you play music? Is it any different from when you do other things?"

"Uh-huh," Tony answered without hesitation. "I feel…" Tony's voice trailed off, and he fed himself another sloppy spoonful of ice cream, as if to buy himself some time. Then, setting his spoon back in the dish, he finally seemed to have found the right words. "I feel happier, and calm in my brain," he said with a serene smile.

"Well, there might be something to that. Maybe you should bring it up during your next session with Rachel," Tim suggested.

"Yeah. Maybe." Tony set his spoon back in the dish, looking at Tim with genuine affection. "So, what's new in the life of Tim? I want to hear all about it!"

"Okay." Taking one last bite of ice cream, Tim set down his spoon, then wiped off his mouth with a napkin. "Well, we had this case –"

"No." Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. "Not work related. Anything but that."

"Okay…" Tim nodded, licking his lips. He was beginning to understand that Tony's last years at NCIS were difficult, and the last thing he wanted to do was trigger painful memories.

"Well, I've started playing a new online role play game. It's pretty fun!" Tim almost hoped that Tony would start teasing him for this. Even if the old Tony was never coming back, seeing just a flash of who he used to be would be a welcome revelation.

"Oh, that's cool! Tell me about it!" Tony demanded excitedly.

Well, that was unexpected!

"You really want to know?" Tim asked in disbelief. "Isn't this stuff too geeky for you?"

"No. I didn't mean any of that stuff I said before," Tony admitted, almost apologetically. "To tell the truth, I was always a little jealous of you."

"Jealous?" Tim blinked in surprise. "Why?"

"Because you don't hide who you are. You like what you like, and you don't care what other people think about it." Tony sighed sadly, a tear trickling down his cheek. "I wish I was like that. I always hid, and people thought they knew stuff about me. But they didn't know me. Never."

Tim closed his eyes and sighed, guilt washing over him. If this new version of Tony was anything, he was honest.

Yes, Tony used to hide behind masks. And he was pretty convincing. But no one ever took the time to try and see the person behind these masks. They made assumptions about Tony, blinded to the pain beneath the surface. Tim knew he was just as guilty of this as anyone.

Looking across the table at this honest, vulnerable man – a man who could no longer hide – Tim offered him a teary eyed smiled.

"Well, I never want you to feel you have to hide again. You can tell me anything. I'll never laugh at you or judge you for it. You're my best friend, Tony. You can be yourself around me. So from now on, no more hiding. Deal?"

Tony smiled – that big, innocent, forgiving smile that was both endearing and heartbreaking – nodding enthusiastically. "Deal."

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Glancing over at Tony, head resting against the passenger side window as he softly snored, Tim smiled. It had been fun to get Tony out of the house for awhile and just interact as friends. While it was true that, even at his biggest, Tony was very much a little boy, there were moments when he displayed a self awareness that Tim, as adult as he was, could only hope for. Somehow, through Tony's regression, their friendship had achieved a depth and maturity that had been absent before.

As Tim pulled up into the driveway, Tony whimpered sleepily at the change in motion. It was an endearing sound that made Tim wish they could prolong their afternoon together. Nothing like a man who had been returned to a state of innocence to help one forget the grim truths of adult life.

"We home?" Tony asked, yawning.

"Yep," Tim confirmed, unbuckling his seat belt, then reaching to do the same for Tony. As he did so, Tony grabbed hold of his arm, giving him an adoring smile.

"Thank you, Tim. I had fun today."

"So did I, buddy," Tim said warmly, unbuckling Tony. "Maybe next time I can bring you over to my place and show you that new role play game I've been playing."

"Yeah!" Tony exclaimed, wiggling around excitedly.

"Okay," Tim laughed. "Let's get you inside. I'm sure Jethro missed you."

Getting out of the car, Tim once again grabbed Tony's backpack from the back seat, then went around to open Tony's door. It was then that he noticed Jethro standing on the porch talking to a white haired man in a black suit, which reminded Tim of the designer suits Tony used to sometimes wear.

"You expecting company?" Tim asked, helping Tony out of the car.

"No…" Tony answered, confused, as he and Tim made their way to the house.

Curiously staring at the back of the man's head for a few steps, it wasn't long before his deep voice became audible.

It was a voice that stopped Tony in his tracks. And before Tim knew what was happening, he found Tony clinging to his arm for dear life, whimpering fearfully.

"We gotta go,Tim," Tony whispered, tugging at the sleeve of Tim's shirt. "I don't wanna be here."

But it was too late. The man, aware of their presence, turned to face them, grinning like a Cheshire cat as his eyes gazed upon Tony.

"Junior!" the voice boomed, and it was then that Tim realized that the man in question was Tony's father. No wonder Tony had reacted so strongly!

"It's good to see you, son," Senior said, pulling Tony into a one sided hug. "I've missed y –"

"No!" Tony cried, struggling in his father's embrace. "I d-don'…don't…"

"That's enough", Jethro barked, pulling Senior away from Tony, who quickly sought comfort in Tim's welcoming arms. "I told you to leave."

"But he's my son!" Senior protested. "I have a right to – "

Ignoring Senior, Jethro turned his attention to Tim and Tony. "Get Tony inside, Tim," he ordered.

"Got it," Tim nodded.

As Jethro turned to finish dealing with Senior, Tim could feel the weight of Tony's body against him as he sobbed into Tim's shoulder, shaking like a leaf.

"Think you can walk, Tony?" Tim asked, honestly wondering, as the brief physical contact seemed to have left him paralyzed with fear.

Feeling Tony nod against his shoulder, Tim supported his friend as they entered the house as one.

Leading Tony over to the couch, Tim could feel the other man rapidly slipping into regression. It wouldn't be much longer before his legs could no longer carry him. Thankfully, they reached the couch before that happened.

"You still with me?" Tim asked, helping Tony lie down.

"Uh…uh-h-huh…" Tony sobbed.

"Okay. Just hang in there while I go get your blanket and pacifier."

"No!" Tony whined, grabbing Tim by the wrist when he tried to walk away. "St-ha-hay…."

Tim sighed sadly. He hadn't seen Tony this scared and needy since those first months after his rescue. He'd hope he would never have to see his friend like this again. And yet, with one visit from his father, here Tony was, falling apart all over again.

"Sure thing, buddy," Tim said softly, rearranging Tony's body so that he could take a seat, then resting Tony's head on his lap.

Tim ran his fingers through Tony's hair, and Tony's breathing steadied in response, his body beginning to relax against Tim, though he was still clearly very upset.

Hearing the front door open, Tim looked up to see Jethro enter, taking a few deep breaths to erase any anger and tension from his face. He needed to keep his emotions in check. Otherwise, he might frighten Tony. And Tim knew that was the last thing Jethro wanted to do.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jethro cooed, kneeling down in from of the couch and cupping Tony's cheek. "You're gonna be okay."

"He..gah-gone?" Tony asked, blinking up at Jethro through his tears.

"Yeah." Jethro kissed Tony's forehead. "He's gone."

"I… don' yike…w-when…he touch me."

At those words, Tim could swear he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He looked up at Jethro, the two of them exchanging the same pained expression. Both feeling sickened and enraged at thoughts of what Tony's father might have done to him.

"Tony? What did your father…"

Jethro's voice trailed off, noting Tony's eyes drooping closed. His body became limp and unresponsive in Tim's hold, and both Tim and Jethro knew, Tony was gone.

Tim suspected that Baby Tony was much younger than usual this time. And he got the sinking feeling this regression would be a lot harder for Tony to come out of it.

And when Tony did eventually to come out of this regression, would he be able to open up about whatever had happened to him as a child? Because until he did, Tim was sure the happy, playful boy that Tony had started to become would be forever lost.


	40. The Littlest Baby Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. Real life has been insanely busy for me, and whenever I had a little bit of free time, I was too tired to think. But it looks like things are starting to settle down now. So hopefully you won't have to wait so long between updates again.  
> I hope you find this worth the wait.

 

 

 

Sitting in her parked car, Rachel stared at Jethro and Tony's house, focusing on her breathing and trying to keep her emotions in check as she prepared for the hour ahead.

Never before had it been so hard for her to separate her personal and professional feelings. And yes, it could be argued that treating Tony and Jethro was a conflict of interest. After all, they weren't just her patients. They were her friends; living links to her sister's memory.

So as hard as Rachel tried not to, she couldn't help but to get emotionally involved. Some might say this made it hard for her to see things objectively. And if it were anyone else, she would agree. But Rachel felt her friendship with Tony and Jethro only served to help her better understand their unique relationship. While other specialists might be concerned by Tony's regressions, Rachel knew they were exactly what he needed. And while some might frown upon Jethro taking on the role of "daddy", both encouraging and enabling these regressions, Rachel knew there was no one better suited for the role of Tony's caregiver.

Now, Tony had been hit with yet another obstacle on his path to healing. His father reappeared in his life, and in the process, seemed to have undone all of the progress Tony had made in the past year.

Ordinarily, Rachel saw Tony's regressions as healthy. A kind of emotional reset for him. When he eventually came out of them, he was able to express himself honestly, and work on his issues with an open and innocent mind. This openess and mental flexiblity was usually exhibited in very young children. But for Tony, it was exactly what he needed to work through what had happened to him. And for this reason, Rachel was thankful for his regressions. His coping mechanism also just happened to be a great healing mechanism.

But ever since Tony's father's visit, things had gone horribly wrong. Tony regressed to approximately 4 months of age. Which would have been fine, given the circumstances. The problem was that he had remained stuck in this regression for nearly two weeks now, and showed no signed of coming out of it. There was no healing in this regression. Only hiding.

Rachel sighed, opening the driver's side door and stepping out of the car. Unfortunately, until recently, she had been at a conference, and unable to see Tony. But she was here now, and she'd come prepared and hopeful; armed with a new tool that she hoped might help pull Big Tony out of hiding.

Stepping up to the house, Rachel fumbled around with her keychain until she found the key that Jethro had given her. Jethro told her he preferred she use it, since you never know when Tony might be napping, getting bathed, or put into a clean diaper.

Turning the key in the lock and quietly opening the door, Rachel stepped inside, looking around for signs of life.

"Hello?" she called, setting her purse on a small table next to the door.

"Hi. You must be Rachel," a deep, unfamiliar male voice called.

Looking up, Rachel fixed her gazed on a very large Hispanic man, who looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s. He was tall - Rachel guessed around 6'5" - 6'7" - and built like a house! But he had kind eyes, and a warm smile, which made him appear friendly and non threatening.

"Yes," Rachel answered, smiling at the young man. "I'm Rachel. And you are...?"

"Ethan. I'm Tony's new nurse." Ethan tilted his head in the direction of the living room. "Have a seat. Tony is just waking up from his nap."

"Thank you," Rachel nodded politely, heading towards the living room, while Ethan made his way to Tony's nursery.

Sitting down on an easy chair, Rachel smiled as the sound of Tony's giggles and grunts reached her ears. He sounded so happy. And if what Jethro told her was to be believed, the trauma of the event that had led to this regression hadn't carried over into it. That in and of itself was encouraging.

_NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS_

Minutes later, Jethro entered, walking alongside Ethan, who was pushing Tony in his wheelchair. This was a different wheelchair than Rachel had seen Tony in before. It reclined slightly; most likely to keep Tony - who had little control over his own body - from falling out.

"Hey, Rachel. Thanks for waiting," Jethro greeted with a tired smile.

Rachel simply smiled and nodded, allowing Jethro a moment to get settled with his boy.

Jethro took a seat on the couch, both he and Rachel looking on as Ethan put down the brakes on Tony's wheelchair, then walked around to pick the large "baby" up with ease.

Tony, dressed in a baby blue onesie, navy blue sweatpant, and yellow socks with pictures of duck faces on the toes, sucked lazily on a pacifier as the giant of a nurse lifted him out of the wheelchair and placed him in Jethro's lap.

Jethro, waiting with open arms, happily arranged Tony so that the boy's head was resting in the crook of his arm.

The sight might seem ridiculous - comical, even - to most. But to Rachel, it was the most beautiful and pure display of love she had ever seen. Blue eyes locked in a loving gaze with green. Jethro communicating absolute devotion; Tony, complete trust.

I'm gonna prepare a bottle for Tony," Ethan informed Jethro, tucking Tony's blankie snuggly around him. "Be back in a few."

"Thanks," Jethro replied, looking up only briefly to acknowledge Ethan before returning his attention fully to Tony.

"Ethan seems nice," Rachel commented, once the nurse had left the room. "How long has he been with you?"

"Only a few days now," Jethro answered, cupping Tony's cheek with his free hand as he lightly stroked Tony's temple with his thumb. "He's been a real help. Much as I hate to admit it, I need the extra help. Before, Baby Tony could at least crawl around and climb up onto things. Now, he's mostly dead weight. And let's face it," Jethro sighed, looking almost apologetic as the next words came out of his mouth. "Tony's not as light as he used to be."

Rachel nodded, humming in acknowlegement. While Tony was still very thin (looking very much like the man Kate had shown her in pictures), he was a far cry from the skeletal, almost inhuman looking form she had met a year ago.

"Not that I'm complaining," Jethro quickly added. "I would never want Tony to go back to..." Jethro's voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes, obviously wincing at the painful memory of Tony's emaciated image.

"I understand." Rachel smiled sympathetically, in an effort to put Jethro at ease.

Just then, Ethan entered, holding the bottle he had warmed for Tony.

Jethro looked up briefly to acknowledge Ethan, then stuck his index finger inside Tony's cheek, gently removing the pacifier from his boy's mouth. Tony whined and fussed momentarily at the loss before Ethan quickly handed Jethro the bottle.

Smiling up appreciatively at Ethan, Jethro popped the nipple into Tony's mouth, and the boy quickly settled; sucking and humming in contentment.

"You need anything else?" Ethan asked tentatively, obviously nervous that he might be walking in on a sensitive conversation.

"Nah. We're good," Jethro answered casually, putting the pacifier - which had been resting momentarily on Tony's tummy - on the end table. "Go get yourself some lunch."

"Okay." Ethan nodded, giving Jethro a small wave before turning to address Rachel. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Ethan," Rachel replied with a warm smile.

Watching Ethan walk out, Rachel decided that she liked the young man. In the short time since she'd met him, she could already tell he was very good with Tony. And he had earned Jethro's trust, which, Rachel knew, was not an easy task. Especially when it came to his sweet, vulnerable boy. She was curious to know how Ethan had come into their lives. But that was a question for another time.

"What's on your mind?" Rachel asked, noting the sadness in Jethro's eyes, which betrayed the smile on his face as he gazed down at Tony.

Jethro inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, furiously blinking back tears as he held his suckling boy just a little bit closer.

"Tony was doing so well," he finally answered, voice tight in an effort to control his emotions. "Then that - that father of his comes along, and Tony loses all of it. I just...I wish I knew what he did to Tony back then. What would make Tony react to him like this?"

"I'm guessing you're doing everything in your power to find out," Rachel said knowingly.

"Yeah. Doing what I can. And I got McG -  _Tim_  looking into it too," Jethro confirmed. "I know Tony's dad abused him when he was a kid. Tony let it slip once when he was heavily medicated."

Rachel sighed sadly at this. That sounded like the Tony she'd heard about. At his most honest when his judgement was clouded, and his inhibitions low.

"I never brought it up after that. And maybe I should have."

Jethro removed the nipple of the now empty bottle from Tony's mouth and set it on the end table. He then took a moment to hoist Tony up, so the boy's head was resting on his shoulder.

"Tony has been suffering alone all these years,' Jethro said mournfully, rubbing Tony's back, then patting it lightly, allowing a few small burps to escape. "I don't think he ever got help. And now, it might be too late."

"No." Rachel shook her head defiantly, standing up and dragging the ottoman over towards the couch. She wasn't about to let Jethro's feelings of guilt and hopelessness leave him powerless to help Tony. "You've brought Tony back from much worse than this. "

Rachel reached for Tony, running her fingers through his sandy brown hair. "Look at how happy he is. How calm and trusting. Could you say that about the Tony you brought home a year ago?"

"No," Jethro admitted, shaking his head. "Definitely not."

"And look how far he progressed. How happy and trusting he became, in spite of what happened to him," Rachel pointed out. "That was largely due to your support and belief in him. You didn't give up on Tony, even when things felt hopeless. So why start now?"

"Yeah. You're right," Jethro sighed, rearranging Tony's body so he was once again resting in the crook of his arm. "So, what do you suggest I do? I'm not even sure how to get through to Tony when he's like this."

"I have a few ideas," Rachel said, standing up and going to fetch her purse, which she had left resting against the easy chair.

Pulling out her phone and opening it, she then went to her videos, smiling fondly when she found the one she was looking for.

"Tony has always responded well to music," she pointed out. "It calms him to listen to it. And when he performs music...well, it transforms him! When Tony sat at that piano and sang, it was the most focused and 'adult' I had ever seen him!"

Jethro smiled momentarily at the memory. "Yeah. That's true," he agreed, looking down affectionately at Tony, who pulled weakly at the collar of his shirt. "So, are you saying I should be playing music for him?"

"Yes! Specifically, music from Tony's personal collection. Music you know resonates with him. For someone like Tony, music is very much a part of his identity. So I was thinking we could start by showing him this."

Rachel leaned over, holding her phone in front of Tony, and turning it so the screen was facing him. Jethro, in turn, sat Tony up so he could see better.

Rachel touched the screen, and a video played of Tony playing piano and singing "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel.

Tony's eyes widened, his lips turning into an adorable "o" shape as he reached for the phone.

"No, baby," Jethro whispered, reaching for Tony's rattle on the end table and handing it to him.

Tony latched onto the object, but his eyes remained transfixed on the screen. Distraction found, potential tantrum avoided.

"I haven't seen Tony take this much interest in anything since before this regression," Jethro observed, smiling as he listened to Tony babble along to his own singing. "Do you think he knows he's watching himself?"

"There's no way to know for sure," Rachel answered. "But the way this has captured his attention, I suspect a part of him knows."

The video stopped, and Tony whined pitifully, tossing his head back and letting it fall against Jethro's chest.

"Tony," Rachel called soothingly, gently squeezing his arm. "You want to watch again, baby boy?"

Starting the video up again, Rachel watched as the fussy baby quieted and his daddy sat him up to look at the screen.

Squealing in delight, Tony wiggled, flapping his arms clumsily at his sides. The rattle, though held loosely, remained in Tony's hand, tapping lightly against his leg.

"Be patient with Tony. I have a feeling he will come back to you in time," Rachel told Jethro, as they watched the happy boy. "In the meantime, try and enjoy Tony as he is now. At this moment, you're giving him exactly what he needs."

Giving Rachel a half smile, Jethro circled his arms around Tony's waist, giving his belly a squeeze. And as Tony giggled in response, Rachel knew they would be all right. Though Tony and Jethro faced a rough road ahead, the worst was already behind them.


	41. Ethan

 

 

_Two weeks after Tony's rescue_

Ethan Montenegro took a deep breath, clutching the clip board close to him as he walked towards room 402; wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into when he agreed to take on another shift while his coworker was out of town.

He'd heard all about Tony DiNozzo at that morning's care meeting. Former fed, kidnapped, beaten, raped, tortured and starved. Left an emaciated, traumatized, infantilized mute.

Ethan had no issues working with a patient like Tony. He was just concerned his presence might frighten the broken man. Ethan was large, and physically imposing. But he had a kind heart and a generous spirit. Ever since age 6, when his father had died, he had pretty much helped his mother raise his younger brother. And when his aging grandparents came to live with the family in their later years, he cared for them until the very end. Nursing was a profession that seemed tailor made for a born caregiver like Ethan.

Unfortunately, due to Ethan's size and stature, many patients were frightened and intimidated by him, resisting his care before he was even able to provide it. He feared it would be next to impossible to get through to a man as damaged as Tony DiNozzo.

Entering the patient's room quietly, Ethan was barely able to supress his horror at the sight before him. Lying in the bed was a thin, long limbed man. Skin hung loosely over his skeletal frame; as if he had been forced to lose a lot of weight in a short period of time. He truly was the physical embodiment of the term "bag of bones."

His face was cover in cuts and bruises that now appeared a purplish yellow, and his right eye was swollen partially shut.

His arms and legs flapped uselessly in an infantile manner, and his eyes stared up innocently at the man at his bedside. An older man, with silver hair and stern, yet gentle features. Even if Ethan hadn't been informed that Tony's primary visitor was his former boss at NCIS, it would have been easy enough to guess the man as ex military.

"Excuse me," Ethan said quietly, approaching the bed. "My name is Ethan. I'll be filling in as Tony's nurse this week."

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," the older man introduced himself, standing to shake Ethan's hand. "Call me Jethro."

"Nice to meet you, Jethro." Ethan smiled, then quickly turned his attention to Tony.

Upon closer inspection, he now saw that a patch of skin on Tony's left side, spanning from his jawbone to his clavicle, was covered in burns. Shuddering inwardly at the thought of all that Tony must have endured, Ethan knew that he would need to approach the man with the utmost delicacy and care.

"Tony," Jethro cooed, motioning toward Ethan. "This is your new friend Ethan. He'll be taking care of you today."

Tony froze for a moment, his gaze fixed on Ethan. Green eyes widened and pooled with tears. His chin crinkled and his full lips wobbled, and it wasn't long before he was sobbing loudly, reaching in desperate need for Jethro.

It was only a matter of seconds before Jethro was in the bed beside Tony, holding the sobbing man close and rocking him gently as he softly shushed him.

After a few minutes, Tony's sobs quieted, and Jethro was finally able to talk to him.

"Tony? Remember what I told you? I won't let anyone hurt you, ever again. Didn't I promised you that? Didn't I promise to keep you safe?"

Tony whimpered, nuzzling into Jethro's chest.

"So if I tell you someone is a friend, you need to know that they are here to help you. They want to keep you safe and healthy, just as much as I do."

Turning his head, Tony peered up at Ethan for just a second before hiding his face back in Jethro's chest.

"Try not to take it personally," Jethro said apologetically. "One of the men who hurt Tony was...he was a big guy. Like you."

Ethan nodded in understanding. "I get it." Tony wasn't the first patient to be scared by his size. And after what he had been put through, who could blame him?

Reaching down, Ethan lightly brushed Tony's arm with his fingers. When Tony flinched at the touch, Jethro gently touched his cheek, coaxing him to look up.

"Remember, Tony; Ethan is your friend."

Slowly turning onto his back, Tony studied Ethan's features for a minute before looking to Jethro for reassurance.

"It's okay, baby boy," Jethro told Tony, gently letting go of the younger man and getting off of the bed. "Just let Ethan help you. I'll be right here."

Tony whined at the loss, but didn't protest as Jethro stood just out of his reach, allowing Ethan to take a seat on the bed beside him.

"Hey, Tony," Ethan cooed softly. "I know you went through something terrible. And maybe meeting someone like me, who kind of looks like one of the men who hurt you, is scary for you. But I want you to know that I like helping people. And I like making new friends. Would you like to be my friend, Tony?"

Tony looked up at Ethan, his expression thoughtful and confused, as if he were trying to make sense of what the other man was saying.

"I need to put the blood pressure cuff on your arm for a minute. Okay, Tony? You probably know the routine. But since I'm a new person, I don't want to surprise you."

Despite the explanation, Tony whimpered a little, kicking his feet nervously as Ethan reached for his arm.

Not missing a beat, Ethan quickly grabbed a stuffed monkey he had seen on the window sill. "Is this your friend?" he asked, handing the monkey to Tony.

Tony's mouth turned up into a faint smile, and he grabbed the toy from Ethan, hugging it to his cheek.

"That's Walter," Jethro informed Ethan, smiling fondly at Tony's reaction.

"Well, hello, Walter," Ethan greeted, shaking the toy's hand. "You're Tony's good friend, aren't you? You won't let anything bad happen to him."

Tony's expression changed at this odd exchange. His smile growing a little brighter, he let out a small chuckle. It was the tiniest of sounds, but it was music to Ethan's ears. Somehow, he had gotten through to this broken man, turning fear into laughter.

"Am I being silly?" Ethan asked, gently grabbing hold of Tony's free arm and placing a blood pressure cuff on it. "Toys don't talk, do they? Do they...? Seriously, I have no idea," he said in mock confusion.

Tony's smile widened, and Ethan's efforts were rewarded with a hearty laugh. Tony was so amused, he didn't even seem to notice the squeezing of his arm from the blood pressure cuff.

Standing in the corner of the room, arms folded in front of him, Jethro looked on approvingly.

Ethan's heart warmed at this small exchange. Tony had been badly broken in ways too cruel to fathom. His trust would not be easily earned, and friendship might take time.

But Tony's laughter was its own kind of small miracle. And Ethan had a feeling that, hidden beneath the trauma was a man worth knowing.

And if Tony would let him, Ethan would love to have that chance.


	42. Care

Tim let himself into Jethro and Tony's house with his key, knowing that Jethro was expecting him. It was strange how normal this had all come to feel. After years of the team claiming to be a "family", they finally truly were. Even if they weren't exactly a "team" anymore. At least not in the work sense.

 

Entering the living room, Tim found Jethro on the couch with Tony seated beside him; Jethro reading a book to the overgrown baby. Tony followed along, enthralled, as he sucked rhythmically on his pacifier, loosely holding his favorite stuffed bear, which Tim had bought for him at the hospital.

 

Tony noticed Tim the moment he entered the room, and started kicking his legs excitedly.

 

"Hey, buddy. Good to see you," Tim greeted, taking a seat beside Tony.

 

Tony reached for Tim, clumsily flopping face down into the his lap.

 

"Well, that doesn't look very comfortable," Tim commented, laughing softly. "Come on. Up you go." Hoisting Tony up so that he was sitting properly in his lap, Tim had to smile when he felt the boy's head resting against his chest.

 

"I guess story time is over," Jethro laughed, setting the book down on the coffee table.

 

" 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar.' I remember my mom reading that to me when I was a kid." Tim smiled.

 

"Yeah, this was Kelly's old book," Jethro said, leaning back. "Tony's loves it."

 

Tim smiled down at his old friend, who seemed perfectly content to lie cradled in his arms. And in this perfect moment, he felt more confident than ever about the decision he had made.

 

"I've got some news," Tim announced, handing Tony his stuffed bear, which the boy latched on to with clumsy eagerness. "A couple of things, actually. First of all, cyber crimes wants me back."

 

"Really?" Jethro asked, sitting up with interest. "You gonna take the job?"

 

"They want to put me in charge, Jethro. I can't turn down an opportunity like this. And honestly, I've been thinking about leaving the MCRT for awhile now. You're gone, Tony's gone...it's just not the same."

 

"I understand," Gibbs nodded. "Have you told Abby yet? I don't think she'll let you go without a fight."

 

Tim laughed sadly, recalling how hard it was for Abby to adjust to losing first Tony, then Jethro.

 

"Abby already knows, and she understands why I'm leaving. She doesn't like it, but she understands." Tim chuckled as Tony reached up to touch his face. "I'm doing it for Tony."

 

Tony stopped fidgeting, looking up at Tim intently, and Tim and Jethro exchanged a look, happy that Tony seemed to recognize his own name.

 

"That's right, Tony. For you," Tim cooed, eliciting a smile from Tony.

 

"How does this decision benefit Tony?" Jethro asked, yawning. He had clearly had a long, tiring day parenting his adult baby. If Jethro had been more alert, Tim was certain he wouldn't even need to ask the question.

 

"Well," Tim began, "I think we -"

 

With a high pitched squeal, Tony wriggled in Tim's arms.  And before Tim or Jethro knew what was happening, he reached forward, falling out of Tim's lap, and face first onto the floor.

 

It took a moment for Tony to fully realize what had happened. But once he did, he erupted into a fit of sobs, writhing on the floor until Ethan came rushing in.

 

"What happened here?" Ethan asked, picking the crying boy up.

 

"I think Tony just got excited and wanted to play. But he forgot about that pesky thing called gravity," Jethro joked, betraying the concern in his eyes and voice. "He'll be okay, won't he?"

 

"Oh yeah. I think so," Ethan said calmly, bouncing Tony on his hip. "I'll look him over, just to be sure. But I think he's more startled than hurt."

 

"Thanks, Ethan. Don't know what I'd do without you," Jethro smiled appreciatively.

 

"Hey, no problem. You guys keep talking, and leave this cutie to me," Ethan said casually, hugging the sniffling boy closer to him. "Nice seeing you, Tim," he greeted, as he exited the room.

 

"You too," Tim called after Ethan, feeling very grateful to the large man for looking after his emotionally and psychologically damaged best friend.

 

"What happened there? That's what I'm talking about," Tim said, turning to Jethro. "This is who Tony is now. We can hope he'll come out of this particular regression and start to 'grow up,' but we can't be sure it will happen. Think about it; before this, Tony was making real progress. He was doing so well! But even then, he was never fully 'adult', and would slip into regressions at the smallest sign of stress. Even before Tony's dad came back, we still saw 'baby' Tony a lot more than we saw 'Big' Tony.

 

"Yeah," Jethro admitted solemnly. "That's true."

 

"Anyway, I think we both know that Tony will never be able to live on his own again. No matter how much he improves, he's always going to need someone to take care of him. And as much as I hate to think about anything happening to you, I think we need to be prepared for that possibility. So, if for any reason you're unable to take care of Tony, I was hoping that I could."

 

"That's why you accepted the position with cyber crimes," Jethro stated.

 

Tim nodded his confirmation. "I can't be risking my life on a daily basis knowing my best friend is depending on me."

 

With a sad smile, Jethro nodded in acknowledgement of Tim's words. "I've been thinking a lot about this too. And to tell you the truth, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have take over over as Tony's caregiver. You're great with him, and he sure does love you!"

 

A smile lit up Tim's face. He was both honored and flattered that Jethro not only accepted his offer, but trusted him over anyone else with Tony's care.

 

"You said there was something else you wanted to talk to be about?" Jethro reminded Tim, bringing the younger man back to a much grimmer side of things.

 

"Yeah. I...ah...I was able to track down the DiNozzo's old housekeeper. A woman named Nora Radcliffe. She worked for the family from 1974 to 1982. When I told her about the situation with Tony and his dad, she informed me that she had witnessed some things - after Tony's mother died - that might explain Tony's reaction.  She wants to fly down here and speak with you personally."

 

"Of course," Jethro agreed. "Anything for Tony."

 

"I was hoping you'd say that. She's arriving Wednesday afternoon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves. What is revealed in the coming chapters will really make you hate Senior! But getting that information out in the open will ultimately help Tony begin to truly heal.
> 
> Thank you for all of your comments and kudos on this story. I am so happy to have you along with me on this storytelling journey! 
> 
> Also, if you are a fan of Bull,I hope you will check out my newest story, "To Be Needed."


	43. Nora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long. I felt the subject matter in this chapter was important, and didn't want to half ass it. It actually took a few rewrites before I finally got things just how I wanted them. I hope it was worse the wait.
> 
> Also, a reminder that, if you are a fan of Bull, you might be interested in checking out my story "To Be Needed."

Jethro watched silently, not wanting to disturb the perfect moment before him. Tony sat snuggled against Ethan, held securely in the large man’s arms. Covered in his fire truck blankie, sucking on his pacifier with purpose, and holding his favorite stuffed bear, Tony watched _Thomas the Tank Engine_ with fascination.  
Jethro smiled, secretly thankful he had saved Kelly’s old VHS tapes. Tim would be bringing Nora Radcliffe over soon, and it would be better to have Tony distracted while she opened up about what she remembered of Tony’s past with his father.  
  
As the boy sat, perfectly content in Ethan’s arms, Ethan smiled at Jethro, giving him a look that said “I got this” as they heard the crunch of tires in the driveway.  
  
Nodding his appreciation, Jethro quietly made his way to the door and slipped out, without Tony being any the wiser.  
  
Closing the front door behind him, Jethro noted that the DiNozzo’s former housekeeper looked very different than he had imagined. Far from the grandmotherly figure he had pictured, Nora was tall and slender; dressed in grey slacks, a red sweater and a black overcoat. Her gray hair was pulled up into a bun, and the red lipstick she wore made her lips stand out, without looking garish.  
  
“You must be Jethro,” Nora stated rhetorically, extending a slender hand for him to shake, before quickly changing her mind and taking him in a tight embrace.  
  
“Thank you for taking care of Tony,” she said tearfully.  
  
“Believe me, it’s a pleasure.”  Jethro  pulled back from the hug, giving Nora a tender look before turning to address Tim.  
  
“Tim, why you go in front? Visit with Tony and Ethan for awhile. Mrs. Radcliffe and I will go in through the back door and have our talk in the kitchen.”  
  
“You got it.” Tim nodded, making his way to the house.  
  
“Can I see Tony?” Nora asked, looking to the house worriedly.  
  
“Of course you can,” Jethro promised, giving her a light pat on the back as he lead her around back. “ _After_ we talk. I think there’s a lot we _both_ need to understand if we want to help Tony. And you need to be prepared for the person he is now.”  
  
“Your friend Tim told me a little about it,” Nora said, looking down at her lap. “As I understand it, Tony has mentally regressed…to infancy?”  
  
“You don’t seem surprised,” Jethro stated, opening the back door and motioning for Nora to come inside.  
  
“I’m not, really,” Nora admitted, entering the kitchen. “Knowing Tony like I do, it makes sense.”  
  
“How _do_ you know Tony?” Jethro inquired, pulling out a chair for Nora, then taking a seat himself.  
  
Nora smiled sadly in recollection. “Annabelle – Tony’s mother – and I were best friends, ever since we were little girls. I remember when she first started seeing Tony’s father. I attended their wedding. I was there for Tony’s birth. I was family! And when my husband and I fell on hard times, it was Annabelle who hired me on as their housekeeper.”  
  
“What was the home environment like?” Jethro asked, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward with interest.  
  
Nora sighed. “Let me start by coming right now and saying that I never liked Tony’s father. Sure, he was a charmer. He had Annabelle under his spell for a long time. But after they got married, it wasn’t long before he dropped the act, and she saw him for who he really is.”  
  
“And who is he?”  
  
“Alcoholic, violent, sexually aggressive…and then he had the nerve to get angry when he found out Annabelle was pregnant with Tony.”  
  
“So Senior never wanted Tony,” Jethro commented.  
  
“Oh no,” Nora laughed bitterly. He resented Tony before the poor boy had even left the womb. But Annabelle had nowhere to go. No job. No family close by to go home to. She felt trapped and scared, and all she could really do was try and protect her child with everything she had.  
  
“So Tony grew up very sheltered. Very protected. Annabelle kept him close; taking him to movies, teaching him guitar and piano, taking him to any free family events in the community she could find. Basically, keeping Tony out of the house – and away from his father - as much as possible.”  
  
“Sounds like she made the best of a difficult situation,” Jethro said with admiration.  
  
“She did. The unfortunate side effect was that Tony ended up being very much a mama’s boy. He struggled to connect with other kids, and was teased and picked on a lot at school. In that regard, I guess being sent away to boarding school was a blessing. It was a crash course in socialization, and probably toughened Tony up for the world, which he desperately needed. That, and it was an escape from his father.”  
  
Nora took a deep breath, swiping away tears from her eyes.  
  
“I’m pretty sure Tony would take a lifetime of teasing over what his father was doing to him at home.”  
  
“What did his father do?” Jethro asked, trying to control the rage he felt building inside him.  
  
“Nothing I can prove,” Nora admitted. “But after Annabelle died, when Tony’s father had to step up and be a parent, Tony changed. He became more quiet and withdrawn. He cried all the time, started wetting the bed –“  
  
“Sounds like that was when his regressions started,” Jethro observed. “How did Tony’s dad handle it?”  
  
“He’d march Tony downstairs, making him carry his dirty sheets. Then he’d stand there poking at Tony, and apologizing for the extra laundry I’d have to do because of him. He blamed Annabelle for ‘coddling’ him and ‘making him soft.’ And I guess that’s partly true. But shaming Tony wasn’t going to help with that. Neither was what he did to Tony behind closed doors.”  
  
“Go on,” Jethro urged, clenching his fists.  
  
“I’d hear things, up in Tony’s room,” Nora explained. “I heard the sound of what I’m guessing was spanking – and cries from Tony after. I heard Tony say things like ‘I don’t like that, dad’, ‘don’t touch me there,’ or ‘that tastes bad. Don’t make me do it again.’ While I could only guess at what was going on, I knew that it was bad! And just when I had finally worked up some courage, and was about to report my suspicions, Tony was sent off to boarding. Which, as I said earlier, was probably the best thing for him. It sounds like he grew into a fine man.”  
  
“He did,” Jethro said proudly, while he inwardly fumed at all he had just been told. “When I met him, he was doing great work as a cop in Baltimore. After that, he became one of the best damn agents I ever worked with! Tony was smart, perceptive…he was a damn hero! Saved my life more than once. But the most most important thing to know about Tony is that he was one of the kindest, most loyal men you could ever hope to meet. I like to think that man is still in there somewhere. But ever since…”  
  
Jethro’s voice trailed off, as he decided he’d better stop there. Despite what Nora had just told him, he still had no doubt she would be horrified by what had happened to Tony while held by Mark Ellsworth and Kyle Taylor.  
  
But Nora had other ideas.  
  
“Tell me what happened,” she demanded.

“You sure you want - ?”  
  
“Like you said, I need to be prepared for the person Tony is now. So, if he grew up to be this amazing person, what happened to break him?”  
  
Scrubbing his face, Jethro sighed. “Tony was raped and tortured for over three months,” Jethro choked. “He was starved, chained up like and animal, and forced to sleep in his own filth. The whole experience messed up his head something awful. By the time we found him, he didn’t even know who he was anymore.”  
  
Nora held a hand to her mouth, blinking back her tears furiously. “How could such a sweet soul be forced to endure such cruelty?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Gibbs reached over, taking hold of the older woman’s hand, as much to comfort himself as her. “It’s not right. But now that I have a better idea of what Tony’s dad did to him, his behavior is starting to make sense. So thank you for sharing what you remember with me.”  
  
“I hope it helps,” Nora sniffled.  
  
“I’m sure  it will,” Jethro told her with a watery eyed smile. “You still wanna see him?”  
  
Nora nodded, wiping away her tears. “I would like that very much. And I…”Nora opened a pocket in her purse, pulling out a photo and showing it to Jethro. “I brought this.”

They both stood, Jethro  making his way over to Nora and peering over her shoulder. In her hand, she held a photo of Tony when he was a baby, held in his mother’s lap. Sitting beside them was a beautiful dark haired woman, who Jethro automatically identified as Nora. Held in Tony’s chubby arms was a big, brown bear – nearly as big as the boy himself.  
  
“Tony loved that bear,” Nora said fondly. “He took it everywhere with him until he was about 6, and it was too torn apart and worn out to patch up anymore. And oh, did he ever cry when he woke up and found out his mother had thrown it away! I think it was the only time I’d ever seen him upset with her.” Nora sighed, smiling at the memory. “Anyway, I was hoping maybe this would help him remember…I don’t know…something good?”  
  
“It’s worth a shot.” Jethro smiled, motioning with his hand for her to follow him into the living room. “Come on.”  
  
As they entered the living room together, Jethro couldn’t help but notice the discomfort on Nora’s face as she first gazed upon the adult baby. Though she had been told what to expect, it must have still been a big shock for her.  
  
Thankfully, the discomfort was soon replaced by an expression of warmth and love, and the joy of reunion with the boy she had known from birth.  
  
“Tony?” Nora called softly.  
  
Smiling up at Nora in greeting, Ethan stopped the video so that Tony and Nora could visit. This made Tony very unhappy! The boy started crying and fussing, reaching for the TV, before Tim quickly shushed him.  
  
“Hey…it’s okay, buddy,” he cooed. “Look. You have a guest. She came a long way, just to see you.”  
  
Tim pointed up at Nora, and Tony’s eyes followed, fixing on the woman.  
  
“Hi Tony,” Nora greeted, kneeling down in front of him. “My name is Nora. I don’t know if you remember me. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. But your mother and I were friends. And I used to come see you all the time when you were younger.”  
  
Tim stood, allowing Nora to take his place beside Tony. Tony, meanwhile, tilted his head, watching their guest with interest.  
  
“I like your bear,” Nora commented, lightly touching the stuffed animal in Tony’s arms.  
  
Tony smiled at Nora, hands clumsily flopping the toy into his lap.  
  
“You’ve always loved your teddy bears. I remember,” Nora commented, pulling out the old photo to show Tony.  
  
Tony leaned all of his weight onto Nora, in an effort to better see the photo. That’s when Ethan stepped in, placing Tony in his lap. Poor Tony still had very little muscle control in his current state.  
  
“You see?” Nora pointed, while Ethan bounced Tony on his lap. “That’s me, that’s your mother, and that cute little boy there is you, Tony! Do you see? There you are, holding your stuffed bear, Bubba.”  
  
Tony looked at the photo with interest. “Buh!” he exclaimed. Whether he was attempting to say the bear’s name or simply babbling was anyone’s guess. But it was encouraging to see him taking such an interest.  
  
“Ma,” Tony then said, reaching for the picture. And it was at that point that everyone started to wonder if there was truly any understanding or recognition somewhere in Tony’s damaged psyche.  
  
“That’s right,” Nora said, smiling warmly at Tony. “That’s your mother.”  
  
Tony gave Nora a big, bright eyed smile, making grabby hands for her. Quickly handing the picture off to Jethro, she scootched over, hugging the overgrown baby.  
  
“Nuh…wah,” he whispered as she held him.  
  
That got everyone’s attention!  
  
“What’s that, sweetheart?” Nora asked, sitting up and looking at Tony.  
  
“Nuh-wah,” Tony repeated, beaming proudly.  
  
Watching the scene before him, listening to Tony’s vocalizations, Jethro couldn’t help feeling proud himself. And for the first time in weeks, he also felt hopeful. He could see Tony opening up. Eventually, he might even stop hiding himself away.


	44. What He Needs To Hear

Jethro looked down worriedly at Tony, who rested with his head in the crook of Jethro’s arm, sucking lazily on a bottle.  
  
Tony had been quiet for the past day, and lost the fun, playful curiosity he usually possessed, preferring to just lie around, staring into space with a glassy eyed expression.  
  
“We should get Tony to a doctor,” Jethro commented to an approaching Ethan  
  
Ethan shook his head. “I don’t think he’s sick. He doesn’t have a fever, doesn’t appear to be in any physical distress, and I just changed a _very_ full diaper. Plus, he’s taking a bottle, which tells me he still has an appetite.”  
  
“He rejected the mashed sweet potatoes I tried to feed him earlier,” Jethro pointed out.  
  
“That doesn’t mean he’s sick. He’s still getting sustenance from the bottle. I think it’s probably just more soothing for him right now,” Ethan remarked, taking a seat beside Jethro.  
  
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” Jethro sighed, removing the nipple of the now empty bottle from Tony’s mouth and handing it to Ethan. “It’s all about comfort for you, isn’t it, Tony?”  
  
Ethan reached over, taking Tony from Jethro’s arms and placing him onto his lap.  
  
“I don’t get it,” Jethro said,  puzzled, as he stood up and walked into the kitchen with the dirty bottle. “When Tony saw Nora, it looked like he was starting to open up. He even tried talking again. Now, it feels like he’s right back where he was after that bastard father of his came to visit.”  
  
“Maybe that’s the issue,” Ethan posited. “Even though I think seeing Nora was a positive experience for Tony, it probably still reminded him of some things he’d rather forget.”  
  
“You might be right,” Jethro agreed, as he started washing the bottle.  
  
And it was then that it hit him. All this time, he had been so concerned with Tony’s regression, and angry with his father for causing it. He never stopped to think about what he could have – what he _should have_ – said to Tony at the time that might have made all the difference.  
  
Setting the clean bottle in the drainer, Jethro dried off his hands, then walked back into the living room.  
  
Sitting down beside Ethan and Tony, Jethro’s heart broke a little as his boy stared up from Ethan’s shoulder, looking sweet and vulnerable as ever.  
  
“Tony,” Jethro began, running his fingers through the younger man’s hair. “That day, when your father came…you have to know, I never invited him. And if I have my way, he’ll never come near you again. I don’t want you to feel scared in our home. I don’t want you to think I would ever let anyone visit that might harm you. I love you, Tony. And I will protect you with my life.”  
  
Jethro rubbed a hand against Tony’s cheek; smooth and baby soft after a fresh shave from Ethan. “You’re safe here, baby boy.”  
  
Tony closed his eyes, a tear streaming down his cheek as he did so. When he opened them again, they were staring right at Jethro, full of awareness.  
  
Jethro said nothing, not quite sure what to make of what he was seeing. He simply waited to see what Tony might do next.  
  
“J-Jeh…Jethro,” Tony stuttered, surprising both Jethro and Ethan. “I have some…something I w-wanna say.”


	45. A Childhood Stolen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay between upates. I've never gone more than a month without posting a new chapter of this story, and I don't intend to do so again. The problem this time was, the subject matter of this chapter is just so upsetting! Probably the most upsetting since chapters 1-5. There were times when I felt sick to my stomach and had to take a long break before coming back to writing. 
> 
> Just so you know, this chapter is full of triggery stuff. Basically, any horrible, disgusting thing you can imagine Senior doing to Tony as a child is revealed here.
> 
> The good thing is, after this chapter, the story will take a on a much more positive tone, and you will begin to see some real movement towards healing for Tony. So I hope you'll stick with the story, even if this chapter is really disturbing.

"What do you need to tell me, Tony?” Jethro asked, lightly running his fingers through the younger man’s hair.

 

“I…” Tony bit his lip thoughtfully, nestling into Ethan’s chest. “It’s important, and I need to be big to tell you. But my body doesn’t want to be big now.” Tony’s eyes were big and fearful. Both sides of himself now fully on the surface, he appeared fractured and overwhelmed by his very existence.

 

“Do you want me to hold you?” Jethro offered, hoping his touch might help Tony find some balance.

 

Tony nodded, and Ethan gently passed him over to Jethro. 

 

“I could go…” Ethan began, clearly not sure where his place was in all of this.

 

“No. Stay,” Tony insisted, looking up at Ethan. “I trust you.”

 

At these words, Jethro and Ethan exchanged a smile. Tony’s trust wasn’t easily earned, and the fact that Ethan had it showed just how big a part of their family he had become.

 

“Okay, Tony,’ Jethro whispered, hugging Tony close. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 

“It’s…it’s about my dad,” Tony whispered, playing with the collar of Jethro’s shirt. “When my mom was alive, I didn’t see him much. Sure, he was around. Sometimes he’d ruffle my hair or mutter ‘I love you, son.’ But it was always very detached. He worked a lot, and when he was home, my mom tended to keep me busy. Planting flowers in our garden, going to movies, story time at the library…you name it. Anything to keep me away from my dad.

 

"I heard them, at night, after I went to bed. I heard my dad yelling. I heard my mom begging him to stop. I heard hits, and thumps and...I heard everything, but I never said anything. I was too scared to say anything."

Tony took a shaking breath, and Jethro could feel the younger man’s entire body tremble against him.

 

"You can take a break if you need to," Jethro told Tony gently.

 

"No." Tony shook his head. "I'm okay. I've just never talked about this with anyone before. It hurts. But I know I need to do it."

 

"All right. Take your time." Jethro squeezed Tony close to his body, feeling Tony sigh heavily against him.

 

"After my mom died, there was no buffer," Tony continued. "My dad was left alone to care for this kid he barely knew. And he never missed an opportunity to tell me just how much my existence had disrupted his life.

 

Tony started to bring his thumb up to his mouth, but stopped himself just before it got there, swallowing audibly. "I think in a lot of ways, my dad saw me as a replacement for my mom. He'd hurt me, but never where anyone could see. He lost his temper with me, but only when we were alone. And some nights, especially if he'd been drinking, he'd come up to my room and...he'd do things to me. H-he'd...make me sit on his lap. I could feel his...I could feel his erection poking -"

 

Tony let out a loud, pained sob, his body curling in on itself, making him seem impossibly small as he shivered in Jethro's arms.

 

"Tony?" Jethro called tentatively, placing a cautious hand on the back of Tony's neck. 

 

"I'm okay," Tony choked out breathlessly. "I n-need...I need to do this. I need to talk about this."

 

Taking several deep breaths, Tony gradually stopped shaking; his body calming with each deliberate breath. It was clear that it took all the focus and self control that he had to keep himself together and not fully retreat back into a state of infancy. 

 

"I don't want to get into specifics," Tony continued. "But my dad...he touched me in ways no parent should touch their child. He'd kiss me...on my lips, my neck, my...other places. He...he'd put his fingers in..."

 

Tony let out a sob that was almost inhuman, as tremors coursed through his tense body. 

 

"It's okay, Tony. I'm here," Jethro soothed, kissing the top of Tony's head as he gently rocked him. 

 

Jethro really wanted Tony to take a break and stop putting himself through this. He could live with Tony being a baby forever if it meant he wouldn't suffer. But he could see that Tony was determined to release this painful memory. And as hard as it was to see Tony like this, Jethro knew that it would likely lead to healing in the long term. 

 

"I learned to be good for him," Tony croaked out, squeezing the fabric of Jethro's shirt tightly between his fists. "If I did what he said, he wouldn't beat me. When I heard him coming up the stairs, it almost became a reflex for me to get down on my knees, knowing he expected me to suck..."

 

Tony swallowed, sounding very much like he was forcing down vomit.

 

"That was as bad as it got for awhile. Then, one night...he was really drunk, or really angry, or...I don't know. But he...he took things as far as they could go." 

 

Jethro closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, trying to keep the anger he felt at this revelation in check. He didn't want Tony to feel confused and think the emotion was for him.

 

Looking down at the shaking man in his arms, Jethro's felt very proud. It took a lot of courage for Tony to open up about this trauma, and a  lot of strength to fight his regressions to do so.

 

"He...sent me away to boarding school not long after that," Tony continued. "I've been avoiding him ever since."

 

The words came out as choked whispers; small and timid, as if spoken by a frightened child. And as soon as they left Tony's lips, he erupted into a fit of sobs, collapsing in Jethro's arms. Finally letting go of the control he had worked so desperately to maintain, he once again slipped into babyhood.

 

"It's okay," Jethro whispered, kissing Tony's forehead as he fought to keep his own emotions under control. "You've been big long enough for one day."

 


	46. I've Got You

“Jethro,” Tony’s voice whimpered through the baby monitor, calling the older man into a state of wakefulness.

Tony’s voice, small and afraid, carried the weight of all he had revealed earlier that day. He’d gone to bed, fully regressed and completely exhausted. Jethro had expected the boy to sleep for hours. But keeping in mind the gruesome memories Tony had shared, Jethro knew any reaction was possible.

And right now, Tony needed comfort. Comfort that only Jethro could provide. Jethro rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the balls of his hands. But he hadn’t even begun to sit up when the door creaked open, and he saw Ethan’s silhouette carrying Tony into the room.

“Jethro,” Ethan called softly. “You awake?”

Jethro grunted, slowly sitting up, holding out his arms and wrapping them around Tony as Ethan placed the boy in the bed with him.”

“I tried my best to calm him down,” Ethan explained. “But he only wants you.”

“Well, I’m happy to have him here with me,” Jethro said softly, smiling up gratefully at Ethan. “You try and get some sleep. I’ve got things covered here.”

“Okay.” Ethan said agreeably. “I’ve got my phone on. So just call if you need anything."

Jethro nodded appreciatively, watching the nurse take his leave.

Nestling into Jethro, Tony’s fearful whimpers resonated against his chest. All Jethro could think to do in the moment was to hold him closer.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, gently massaging Tony’s scalp. “It’s okay, baby boy.”

For several minutes, Jethro and Tony just lie there in silence. Jethro could feel Tony’s body relax against him, and he was on the verge of falling back to sleep when he heard the younger man’s voice call to him, small and timid.”

“Jethro? Do you hate me now? Do you think I’m disgusting? Because of what I told you?”

Jethro looked down his chest, heart breaking as sad green eyes stared up at him.

“Of course not,” Jethro answered, kissing the top of Tony’s head. “The person I’m angry with is your father. And if he’s smart, he won’t show his face around here ever again. But you didn’t do anything wrong, Tony. You were just a scared kid.”

Tony hummed, wiggling a little as he snuggled deeper into Jethro’s chest. “But…I don’t wanna be scared anymore”.

Jethro felt his heart jump, seeing the sincerity and determination in Tony’s eyes. It had been nearly two years since he’d sensed such self awareness from Tony.

” I know I’m messed up. People hurt me and…and…I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“You’re not messed up, Tony,” Jethro corrected him. “I wish you didn’t see yourself that way. You had some terrible things happen to you, and you’re dealing with it the best way you know how.”

“But I wanna…I wanna deal with it better. I wanna try and be big again. I don’t think I can be all the way big. Not yet. But maybe partway big,” Tony told Jethro, his language charmingly childish.

“Okay.” Jethro grinned. “If you feel like you’re ready, you have my support, 100%. Just take it slow, and don’t force it. If you need to regress, if you have days when you’re just not up to being big, that’s okay too. Everyone recovers at their own pace. Just know that I’m proud of you no matter what, Tony. I really am.”

“Thanks.” Tony smiled sleepily, closing his eyes and sighing with contentment. “I love you, Jethro.”

“I love you, too,” Jethro replied affectionately.

Just minutes later, Jethro heard the soft rattle of Tony snoring. Smiling, Jethro hugged him a little tighter. If Tony regressed in his sleep, Jethro didn’t want to risk him falling out of the bed.

“Rest well, Tony,” Jethro cooed. “I’ve got you.”


End file.
